His inclinations prompted him most decidedly to take the vacant chair. It is I who took the burden of your misdeeds upon my shoulders that you might become Lady Ferringhall. He looked up to see an ancient coach making its ponderous way down the street. He won’t have menservants inside the house, and his collection of carriages is only fit for a museum—where most of his friends ought to be, by-the-bye. That was life.
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