” Lucy said, leading him upstairs behind her. “We are the music and you are the instrument,” she said; “we are verse and you are prose. Once in England, she made all haste to visit Remenham House. They were all stout ill-favoured men, attired in the regular jail-livery of scratch wig and snuff-coloured suit; and had all a strong family likeness to each other. To his consternation, she was holding an unwieldy, ugly-looking pistol, all wood and tarnished steel, with both hands about the butt.
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