‘How do you do, my lord? I am Lucilla Froxfield. ‘Lord,’ he uttered, glancing about with a disparaging eye. He frowned. She galloped up the small stairs, hearing that Shari had finally risen. These were his mistresses, Poll Maggot and Edgeworth Bess. "This young fool is come to restore the article—whatever it may be—which Lady Trafford was anxious to conceal, and which his companion purloined. You’d think he wanted to meet the wretch again. How long has Miss Charvill been in England?’ ‘Not long, sir. I couldn’t rest or eat or sleep. He has been lodged in every round-house in the metropolis, and has broken out of them all, and boasts that no prison can hold him. The Closing Scene. .
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