The postilion obeyed, and dashed off as hard as his horses could gallop along the beautiful road leading to Neasdon and Willesden, just as the serving-men made their appearance. Coarse as were the ruffian's notions of feminine beauty, he could not be insensible to the surpassing loveliness of the fair creature, who had thus solicited his attention. He noticed the two chairs close together. Quite trying of him not to be there when he is wanted. " "Won't my life do as well as his?" supplicated the other. There's my thumb upon it. They were so nearly alike that the difference would be due to a shaky hand.
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