" Ideas are never born; they are suggested; they are planted seeds. Wild horses wouldn’t drag it out of me, even I knew anything, which I don’t. He impetuously grasped a hold of her hand, looking for a callous. "You depart for Lancashire to-morrow. “You must leave me your address if you please,” he said, as she rose to go. She was radiant. Wood?" "With pleasure," replied the woollen-draper.
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