" "Mr. “I was half hoping that I might be allowed to see you home. Her brown curls were pulled tight in a severe chignon. Lucy jammed her foot down onto Mark McCloskey’s forehead. The advanced guard rode on to drive away any opposition, while the main body of the procession crossed the bridge, and slowly toiled up Holborn Hill. Nevertheless there came a residuum of expostulations. In another minute, the tramp of horses' feet told that the perpetrators of the outrage had effected their escape. This is a tale of two young fools.
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