As he entered the shop, a tall portly personage advanced to meet him, whom he at once recognised as the present proprietor. The ruse succeeded almost beyond his expectation. “We are to begin our married life to-night—here where I first met you. "My good friend, Owen Wood,—Heaven preserve him!—is still living. He had a handsome, jolly-looking face; stood six feet two in his stockings; and measured more than a cloth-yard shaft across the shoulders—athletic proportions derived from his father the dragoon. But the fall was too great, and he abandoned the attempt.
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