"I am no man's mistress," answered the widow, crimsoning to her temples, but preserving her meek deportment, and humble tone. Hastening to the spot where he had tied his horse to a tree, he vaulted into the saddle, and rode off across the fields,—for he was fearful of encountering the hostile party,—till he reached the Edgeware Road. You are always doing something for nothing, and that is why I love you. .
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