He tries hard to conceal it, but he cannot. The times were such that, with the opinions he entertained, he could not remain idle. Not fit to be dust on your boots. Alarmed by these prognostications of a storm, and feeling too much exhausted from his late severe treatment to proceed further on foot, Wood endeavoured to find a tavern where he might warm and otherwise refresh himself. For was not Gerald a gentleman? An Englishman, whose services any female—excluding her own self so idiote— would be very happy to have.
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