"Them's catchpoles, I s'pose, Sir, arter the gemman with a writ?" he observed. CHAPTER IV. “Why not?” he exclaimed. Mr. Drive away the cat; throw that measure of gin through the window; and tell me why you've not so much as touched the packing-case for Lady Trafford, which I particularly desired you to complete against my return. From head to foot he was attired in the fashionable garb of the young man of the moment. “Much as I hate rows, I’ve either got to make a stand or give in altogether. ” She replied.
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