‘How do you do, my lord? I am Lucilla Froxfield. “Gods!” cried Ann Veronica, and kept him standing. So these two young philosophers got along very well that day; and the succeeding days. They were delighted. Satisfied in this respect, he flung himself into a chair, for his iron frame seldom required the indulgence of a bed, and sought an hour's repose before he began the villanies of another day.
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