“I looked for you on the way home from The Big Apple, where were you?” Lucy smiled. "Not the sort of stories young ladies should read. Another coach was then procured, in which the prisoner was placed. Both advanced towards it, when, by the light of the lantern, Wood beheld, in the countenance of the stranger, the well-remembered and stern features of Rowland. I have counted you, and always hoped to count you, the best of my friends.
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