I'll try a strong dose. Advancing towards him, he made him a formal salutation, which was coldly returned. Ann Veronica felt no repulsion at the prospect. Epithalamy might do. Gin is the poor man's friend,—his sole set-off against the rich man's luxury. She wanted to take him in her arms and hush him, but she sat perfectly still. Before he could draw in the rein, his steed—startled apparently by some object undistinguishable by the rider,—swerved with such suddenness as to unseat him, and precipitate him on the ground.
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