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"Good Lord!" exclaimed the Postilion, and fell back a step

"Well?" said I, ht

"Lord love me!" said the Postilion

"What now?" I inquired

"I never see such a thing as this 'ere," said he, alternately

glancing froure at my feet, "if

it's bewitchments, or only enchantments, I don't like it--strike

me pink if I do!"

"What do you mean?"

"Eyes," continued the Postilion slowly and heavily, and with his

glance wandering still--"eyes, same--nose, identical--ure, same--no, I don't like it

--it's onnat'ral! tha' 's what it is"

"Come, come," I broke in, so like a fool--you see this gentleman is hurt"

"Onnat'ral 's the word!" went on the Postilion,in with--seed a

to ekal this 'ere, that I lostout o' the chaise and a-running off

into the thick o' the storm--that's onnat'ral in the second

place! and then, his face, and your face--that's the most