Spurlock dove headlong at the other's legs, toppling the man. When it came time to eat once again, she hid out on the beach, a remote fastness beyond the city walls, a swampy morass that everyone avoided. ‘Not another caller will I receive this day. When first brought under consideration, she was a miserable and forlorn object; squalid in attire, haggard in looks, and emaciated in frame. "The gentleman is a stranger to me, Poll," replied the woollen-draper, with increased embarrassment.
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