" "You're not deceiving me!" said Thames, doubtfully. The air might be cool, but half an hour without head-gear was an invitation to sunstroke. . " "You may see the marks on the child yourself, if you choose, Sir," urged the widow. Her hair was gathered up behind, in a sort of pad, according to the then prevailing mode; and she wore a muslin cap, and pinners with crow-foot edging. She accomplished it with the aid of the young fellow’s hand, and stepped down into the road, glancing up at the house as she did so. "Relating to the father of the boy—Thames Darrell," supplied Jonathan.
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