She broke a cobblestone over his head and he was out. Shortly afterwards,—it seemed an age to the anxious mother,—Mr. Spurling, and her now accepted suitor, resumed their seats. A spot of colour, brighter than any rouge, burned on her cheeks. The prisoner breathed with difficulty. "Yes, Auntie! And to date you have cost me precisely sixteen thousand dollars— hard earned, every one of them.
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