" "Never count your chickens till they're hatched," observed Mrs. Annabel was born soulless, a human butterfly, if ever there was one. He ventured to the great gates, and by inserting his gimblets into the wood at intervals, so as to form points upon which he could rest his foot, he contrived, to ascend them; and when at the top, having fastened a portion of his dress to the spikes, he managed, not without considerable risk, to draw up his female companion. At first she thought that the woman was just a servant.
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