“Wasn’t Parliament to reassemble?” He put out his hand and leaned against a tree and crossed his legs. Their chit-chat stopped when they reached the bench. Their expression was so amiable, that it would have redeemed a countenance a thousand times plainer than hers. Both advanced towards it, when, by the light of the lantern, Wood beheld, in the countenance of the stranger, the well-remembered and stern features of Rowland. The relationship seemed to have almost as much to do with blood and body as a mortgage.
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