“Who is the tenant of these rooms?” he inquired. "Saved!" "Ay, ay, it's all bob, my covey! You're safe enough, that's certain!" responded the Minters, baying, yelping, leaping, and howling around him like a pack of hounds when the huntsman is beating cover; "but, where are the lurchers?" "Who?" asked Wood. Poor fellow! he sometimes indulges the hope of marrying you, when he grows old enough.
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