The major’s hand stilled. ’ Kimble chewed his lip, but his hostility was visibly lessening. ’ Mrs Chalkney lifted her brows. And the fences are down for good. Places, I found, were daily given away, And yet no friendly gazette mentioned Gay. So perfect was the illusion, that he could almost fancy he heard the solemn voice of the ordinary warning him that his race was nearly run, and imploring him to prepare for eternity.
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