"I beg your pardon," he cried; "but really—ha! ha!—you must excuse me!—that is so uncommonly diverting—ha! ha! Do let me hear it again?—ha! ha! ha!" "Upon my word," rejoined Wood, "you seem vastly entertained by my misfortunes. ” “How?” He asked. ” “You, then,” he said, “are ‘Alcide. My business is with Lady Trafford. "Coming!—so is midnight—so is Jonathan Wild," retorted Jack, with a significant look at Thames. Ruth was inflammable; she would always be flaring up swiftly, in pity, in tenderness, in anger; she would always be answering impulses, without seeking to weigh or to analyse them.
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