Outside the post-office stood a nohatted, blond young man in gray flannels, who was elaborately affixing a stamp to a letter. Crack went the whip, and away floundered the heavy vehicle through the deep ruts of the ill-kept road, or rather lane, (for it was little better,) which, then, led across Southampton Fields. Without you, we might have had some trouble. "Did you ever see the like of her?" "No," answered McClintock, gravely. She was bathed in turbid water that had already been used. ” She changed the subject abruptly.
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