Beneath two tall elms, whose boughs completely overshadowed the roof, stood Mr. "He is," replied a portly personage, arrayed in a gorgeous yellow brocade dressing-gown, lined with cherry-coloured satin, and having a crimson velvet cap, surmounted by a gold tassel, on his head. A lean young man in spectacles pursued her for some time, crying “Courage! Courage!” Somebody threw a dab of mud at her, and some of it got down her neck. “Then why go out with him, Michelle? Why belabor yourself?” Lucy questioned. Something, I'm convinced, has happened to the boys. It’s not far from twilight. ‘Of course not,’ snapped his friend. Other, and more serious impositions, inasmuch as they affected a poorer class of persons, were practised by the underlings of the jail.
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