1. And Lady Trafford having been carried down stairs, and placed within it, the postboy drove off, at a rapid pace for Barnet. " "My writing! no such thing!" ejaculated the lady, casting a look of alarm at the woollen-draper. He could remember when women laid away their gowns in lavender—as this girl's mother had. "Well, you women are forgiving creatures, I must say," observed Jonathan, sarcastically.
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