"Who is it?" "He didn't give his name, Sir," replied the maid; "but he's a young gentleman. Arrived beneath an aperture in the broken roof, he was preparing to pass through it, when he observed a little heap of tiles upon the floor, which appeared to have been recently dislodged. They are not your flowers. "Is this Misther Wudd's, my pretty miss?" demanded the rough voice of the Irish watchman. He seemed happy with her, finding her proper and seemly. "In case he should consent—" "He never will," interrupted Winifred.
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