Just as he was preparing to follow, the wherry containing Rowland and his men, which had drifted in their wake, was dashed against his boat. "You will make me the happiest of mankind," cried the woollen-draper, falling on his knees, and seizing her hand, which he devoured with kisses. “Is Miss Stanley coming up with us?” “I go second,” she said, “and change at Wimbledon. But go thither at once, I beseech you, before he has time to remove them.
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