The farmer was a widow who was slightly famous around town for his prize cows and slightly more famous for his good looks. He pulled her from him to kiss her on the mouth and paused, looking into her face. ‘Why do you stand there? Take him up, and bring him out at once. She had made her way since then a little further into the heart of life. Sheppard. "Them's catchpoles, I s'pose, Sir, arter the gemman with a writ?" he observed.
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