" "I don't wonder at it," rejoined Gay. I mean to have you! Don’t frown me off now. And I’m off to America, and if my steamer goes to the bottom of the Atlantic I’ll thank the Lord for it. The procession had just got into line of march, when a dreadful groan, mixed with yells, hootings, and execrations, was heard. They talked for the better part of an hour, and at last walked together to the junction of highroad and the bridle-path. “If I do,” he said. CHAPTER XXVII.
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