" In stepping across the room, some sharp point in the floor pierced his foot, and stooping to examine it, he found that the wound had been inflicted by a long rusty nail, which projected from the boards. You did not complain then that I personated you—no, nor when Sir John came to me in Paris, and for your sake I lied. Books; an inexplicable hunger to be satisfied. I only wish he was not a Papist and a Jacobite. And it is your own fault that your husband dallies with me.
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