"Your father—poor imbecile!—believes we ran away together. A large body of the constables of Westminster next made their appearance, the chief of whom entered the Lodge, where they were speedily joined by the civic authorities. “You’re—I don’t know,” said Ann Veronica. The dream flowers and is harvested, and we are left by the wayside, having served our singular purpose in the scheme of progress: as the orange is tossed aside when sucked of its ruddy juice. "Come home directly, Sir. Sheppard, you mean, Sir," interrupted his wife, ironically. The porter instantly made his appearance, and Sheppard ordered him to take care of the horses.
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