"He acts queerly, too. You would not have believed me, I know well. It was Blueskin. ‘Don’t involve me in your lover’s tiff. “Why did you ever let me love you? Why did you ever let me peep through the gates of Paradise? Oh! my God! I don’t begin to feel and realize this yet. But not a word to him of Lady Trafford's absence—mind that. ’ ‘Yes,’ she agreed, but her manner was a degree less warm. With his foodle doo! This carpenter he had a wife, The plague and torment of his life, Who, though she did her husband scold, Loved well a woollen-draper bold. A coach was also in attendance, at a little distance.
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