" "How long will you be here?" "To-morrow night. A wife formed part of his scheme of life, for several years he had been secretly but assiduously looking for her. “Why should one pretend?” she whispered. “You!” she exclaimed. " "Allow me to offer you a glass of usquebaugh, my dear," said Kneebone, turning from him, and regarding Edgeworth Bess with a stare so impertinent, that even that not over-delicate young lady summoned up a blush.
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