Cathy rushed out from the kitchen, all smiles, with Lucy behind her. "Ah! Quilt Arnold, my man, is it you? By the powers! I'm glad to see you. “I hope you are going to Carey House. The person, shortly afterwards ushered into the room, seemed by the imperfect light,—for the evening was advancing, and the chamber darkened by heavy drapery,—to be a middle-sized middle-aged man, of rather vulgar appearance, but with a very shrewd aspect.
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