These were his mistresses, Poll Maggot and Edgeworth Bess. Arrived at Westbourne-Green—then nothing more than a common covered with gorse and furzebushes, and boasting only a couple of cottages and an alehouse—he perceived through the hedges the objects of his search slowly ascending the gentle hill that rises from KensallGreen. Lord bless you marm! we sees plenty on 'em in our purfession. There was a young lad ahead of her. "Your ladyship has never been well since you married Sir Cecil," rejoined Mrs. The devastations, however, were speedily made good, and, in two years more, it was finished. “I hope you’re satisfied.
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