“A little touchy this evening, aren’t we, Missy?” Michelle chided her friend. He looked at her reproachfully. Evidently in the flower of his age, he was scarcely less remarkable for symmetry of person than for comeliness of feature; and, though his attire was plain and unpretending, it was such as could be worn only by one belonging to the higher ranks of society. Prudence? Mr Remenham’s sister that was. Again silence.
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