’ ‘Pray don’t,’ begged Mrs Sindlesham, one eye on the general’s embattled features. You'll find me at supper. She attacked his hair resolutely. His face was white. If a cart were coming, or those labourers in the field had heard, escape was impossible. Tombs were desecrated, beautiful statues toppled, and the colorful shops that she had been enchanted by along the canal had been closed or burned. The elastic spirits of youth resumed their sway; and, before the coach stopped, his tears had ceased to flow.
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