Spurlock plodded through the heavy sand, leaden in the heart and mind as well as in the feet. “By-the-bye,” he said, presently, “your sister was married to old Ferringhall the other day, wasn’t she? I saw the notice in the papers. Katy’s face was vapid and undistinguishable from a crowd, but pretty in an abstract sense, like the face of a baby doll. And he departed, just as Wood, who had become alarmed by Thames's long absence, made his appearance with a blunderbuss in his hand. And she seemed always to keep one eye on Ann Veronica’s dress. My son wanted to marry a woman of thirty in a tobacconist’s shop.
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