Morningside Park was a suburb that had not altogether, as people say, come off. Directly dinner was over Mr. "There's Sharples," cried Quilt. She held up the lamp. From a man, who was standing beneath the shade of one these noble trees, information was obtained that the horsemen had ridden along the Harrow Road. Don't be afraid, man,—off with it. Sordid; but that was not Ruth's term for it; she had no precise commentary to offer.
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