Forster, the rebel general's escape, but acquitted, reaped a golden harvest during the occupation of his premises by the Preston rebels, when a larger sum was obtained for a single chamber than (in the words of a sufferer on the occasion) "would have paid the rent of the best house in Saint James's Square or Piccadilly for several years. Balanced on his nose were enormous tortoise-shell spectacles. “You are not going out—this evening, I trust,” that lady asked, a trifle dismayed.
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