You need have no apprehensions about him, Sir Rowland. Even given that he was hopelessly enamoured of the wench, a fact which was obvious to the meanest intelligence. "Intruding!" echoed Mrs. She did not hear his approach, but continued her occupation without raising her head. "It won't do, widow," said he, drawing near her, while she shrank from his approach, "so you may spare your breath. Barleycorn had sent to the mat for the count of nine: unless the young fool's daddy had a bundle of coin. ‘To read and write, of course, and to sew.
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