Maggot was equipped in a light blue riding-habit, trimmed with silver, a hunting-cap and a flaxen peruke, and, instead of a whip, carried a stout cudgel. “But you must forgive me, John. The inn was a military haunt. ‘Only me name,’ Kimble said apologetically. He was made welcome as McClintock's agent; but he politely declined all the proffered courtesies. “It’s like Troy!” said a voice of rapture. She would just walk out of the house and go.
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