Chapter 32 No.32

Any silk, any thread,

Any toys for your head,

Of the newest and finest wear-a?

Come to the pedlar,

Money's a medlar.

That doth utter all men's ware-a.

Winter's Tale.

"This one day and it will be over, and we shall be rational again," thought Ethel, as she awoke.

Flora was sleeping at the Grange, to be ready for action in the

            
            

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