But they found him on the veranda when they returned from McClintock's that evening. His scent was like sweet perfume in her state, like the sweet smell of infants. He hated the taste of it. He looked like the shadow of himself—thin, feeble, hollow-eyed—his beard unshorn—nothing could be more miserable. The Master of the Mint was accompanied by another gentleman almost as portly as himself, and quite as deliberate in his movements. Firstly, she did not intend to marry at all, and particularly she did not mean to marry Mr.
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