‘He wanted me also to run away with him, and I wish very much that I had done so. One cannot trust any man at all. "Do you take me for as great a villain as yourself, Sir?" said the knight, rising. He was no Hoddy, but a tremendous man, with hairy arms and bearded face and drink-shattered intellect. Her mother brewed potions to scent her hair, sweet balms of anise for her lips and hands, told her wonderful secrets, some decidedly un-Christian. ‘What, miss?’ asked Jack Kimble from behind her. The name of this damsel was Edgeworth Bess; and, as her fascinations will not, perhaps, be found to be without some influence upon the future fortunes of her boyish admirer, we have thought it worth while to be thus particular in describing them.
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