She had a warm, fun-loving personality, and an unflattering disrespect for her future husband’s authority. He had seldom been more perturbed. ‘But I will tell you this, mon vieux. Raven locks fell to her shoulders from under the feathered beaver hat, and curled away down her back. Checking an ominous cough, that, ever and anon, convulsed her lungs, the poor woman addressed a few parting words to her companion, who lingered at the doorway as if he had something on his mind, which he did not very well know how to communicate. Jonathan threw open the street-door.
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