‘One does not blow off the head of a man with whom one is in love, en effet. Then he turned round and gazed thoughtfully at the particular spot in the fog where Courtlaw had disappeared. What our dear mother would say back home I dread to think. " Not a little perplexed by the mysterious object she had seen, Rachel left the room, and, shortly afterwards returned with the materials of a tolerably good supper;—to wit, a couple of cold fowls, a tongue, the best part of a sirloin of beef, a jar of pickles, and two small dishes of pastry.
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