Sydney was strumming over a new song which stood upon the piano. Kimble was clearly a plain-spoken fellow. He was tall and straight, and his expression was good. ‘Do you need an excuse?’ ‘Oh, you know what doctors are. ” He laughed. It is repulsive. Speak lower. Crack went the whip, and away floundered the heavy vehicle through the deep ruts of the ill-kept road, or rather lane, (for it was little better,) which, then, led across Southampton Fields. Walpole's order to that effect—but not before.
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