I can't keep a good man beyond three pay-days. You don't know what you have got; I do. ‘How disappointing,’ mourned Gerald. Cathy stood in the bedroom hallway in her faded blue bathrobe. The postilion obeyed, and dashed off as hard as his horses could gallop along the beautiful road leading to Neasdon and Willesden, just as the serving-men made their appearance.
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