She paused for a moment. I only wish he was not a Papist and a Jacobite. There will be no more children in this house, not ever! And if anyone ever tries bringing children into our house again, I shall kill the lot of them. It wouldn't do to say that she was from the hospital. On a bench at the foot of the trees, with a pipe in his mouth, and a tankard by his side, sat the worthy carpenter, looking the picture of good-heartedness and benevolence. The postilion obeyed, and dashed off as hard as his horses could gallop along the beautiful road leading to Neasdon and Willesden, just as the serving-men made their appearance.
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