’ ‘Who is that?’ demanded Lucilla eagerly. “Your little flag of pride must flutter down with the rest of them, Ann Veronica. With a view to raise recruits for his corps, the warlike woollen-draper started for Lancashire, under the colour of a journey on business. He had a handsome, jolly-looking face; stood six feet two in his stockings; and measured more than a cloth-yard shaft across the shoulders—athletic proportions derived from his father the dragoon. “We sent for you several hours ago,” he remarked.
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