Mr. She exhorted Ann Veronica not to become one of “those unsexed intellectuals, neither man nor woman. My son wanted to marry a woman of thirty in a tobacconist’s shop. ” She removed some posters from a chair, and seated herself coolly. "There, he's as safe as Jack Sheppard in the Condemned Hould," laughed the man. They were all stout ill-favoured men, attired in the regular jail-livery of scratch wig and snuff-coloured suit; and had all a strong family likeness to each other. . It was the beginning of June. About this time,—namely, in November, 1703— while young Trenchard was in Lancashire, and his sister in London, on a visit, he received a certain communication from his confidential servant, Davies, which, at once, destroyed his hopes. He did it, he said, “to distract his mind.
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