" Not a little perplexed by the mysterious object she had seen, Rachel left the room, and, shortly afterwards returned with the materials of a tolerably good supper;—to wit, a couple of cold fowls, a tongue, the best part of a sirloin of beef, a jar of pickles, and two small dishes of pastry. "The whole thing in a nutshell!" "Are there no men a woman may trust absolutely?" "Hang it, that isn't it. Perhaps Ferringhall has pensioned her off.
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