She had never expected John capable of saying such things, of thinking such macabre ideas. But, perhaps, you'll first accompany me to my dwelling for a moment, that we may arrange our accounts before we start. The crown has passed from the brow of one monarch to that of another. Mountains out of molehills and armies out of windmills; and you'll tire yourself in one direction and shatter yourself in the other. “Of course,” she said diffidently, “this is a boarding-house, although we never take in promiscuous travellers.
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