“Ass!” he went on, still warming. ” Lucy replied. To her mind, recalling the picture of him the night before, there had been something tragic in the grim silent manner of his tippling. ’ Amusement flickered in Gerald’s breast. "My horse has had a fall," replied Jack, assuming to perfection—for he was a capital mimic,—the tones of Quilt Arnold. When she slipped off of it her head started to bob, filled with air. A.
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