It was a clear, lovely, October morning. ‘My papa he does not wish me to marry the man I choose, and thus he places me in the convent that the nuns may lock me up and I cannot escape. “Indeed, no,” he answered. With one or two exceptions, there were no pews; and, as the intercourse with London was then but slight, the seats were occupied almost exclusively by the villagers. “They all catch on,” she said. But that's an infirmity shared by a great many sounder heads than mine.
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