I hate children. He was well mounted, as was his companion; and had pistols in his holsters, and a hanger at his girdle. Moreover, atrociously and inexorably, he allowed it to appear ever and again in horrible gleams that he suspected there was some man in the case. Kneebone, who did not appear in the slightest degree disconcerted by his cool reception, each sank carelessly into a chair, and made himself at home in a moment. His hat was placed upon one pole, his wig on another. The family always managed to make it home for supper, even though it was a dying custom.
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