’ Roding blinked. But, bloodan'-'ouns! man, if ould Nick himself were to hit me a blow, I'd be afther givin' him another. She thought of them as fools, but had been sorry to see them go. The arrangement had been made by the town matchmaker, a frightening old oak of a man. She had to wear cream and a brown sash and a short frock and her hair down, and Gwen cream and a brown sash and a long skirt and her hair up. After a little further discourse the old man took his departure.
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