With this view, he hurried to the spot where he had left the post-chaise, and found it drawn up at the road-side, the postilion dismounted, and in charge of a couple of farming-men. What sort of a standard of life yours may be I do not know, yet in your heart you know very well that every word you have spoken to me has been a veiled insult, every time you have come into my presence has been an outrage. ‘Alors, I see how is this. The coach in which the prisoner had been conveyed was already broken to pieces, and the driver was glad to escape with life. ” She looked at him wistfully, but with some unwilling doubt in her wrinkled forehead. The old aspect of the place was gone.
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