"Oh lord! I hope not. Passing the old rectory, and still older church, with its reverend screen of trees, and slowly ascending a hill side, from whence he obtained enchanting peeps of the spire and college of Harrow, he reached the cluster of well-built houses which constitute the village of Neasdon. Wood having laid hold of the canvass-bag. "It is an ordinary wedding," he added; "some shopkeeper's daughter. He was bringing the sing-song girl to the hotel! The strange cortège presently vanished below the window-sill. She was noisy and hilarious and enthusiastic, and her hair was always abominably done. Sheppard, and neither deserve nor desire your thanks. My son wanted to marry a woman of thirty in a tobacconist’s shop. There are pretty much three types, those that accept, and those who run away, and those who fight. She loved to be there, taking part in it all, breathing it, being it. "Oh God! she is dying," exclaimed Jack in a voice suffocated by emotion. You fell in at once with her quixotic and damnable scheme of foisting her reputation and her follies upon your shoulders whilst she marries a rich man and commences all over again a life of selfish pleasure. And so I'll tell you what I did —" And she burst into a laugh that froze Jack's blood in his veins.
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