The postilion obeyed, and dashed off as hard as his horses could gallop along the beautiful road leading to Neasdon and Willesden, just as the serving-men made their appearance. I don’t mind telling you chaps that except on the stage I haven’t set eyes on her this side of the water. I was once a disciple of Saint Peter myself, and speak from experience. "My good friend, Owen Wood,—Heaven preserve him!—is still living.
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