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. Entering the Lodge, the first person he beheld was Austin, who was only just up, and whose toilette appeared scarcely completed. No doubt he knew enough of his world to recognise that he stood little chance against the word of a major of militia. “I won’t give you a check though—Yes, I will. ” He smiled at her.
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