He was introduced to Brendon, and a chair was brought by an attentive waiter. Stanley was inclined to think the censorship should be extended to the supply of what he styled latter-day fiction; good wholesome stories were being ousted, he said, by “vicious, corrupting stuff” that “left a bad taste in the mouth. Sheppard's good health, and success to him!" Baptist's toast was received with loud applause, and, as he sat down amid the cheers of the company, and a universal clatter of mugs and glasses, the widow's view was no longer obstructed. By this time, he had apparently accomplished all he desired; for moving the bottle out of Jack's reach, he appropriated it entirely to his own use, leaving the devoted lad to the care of the females. Come! come!" "Hear me, mother," cried Jack, "and I will explain to you why the villain makes this strange and revolting proposal. “Stop this—this humbugging,” he explained. “It is a hateful story. “Let’s go outside. ” “No. Miss Stanley reflected on this proposal for a moment. There were no evidences of any struggle, no overturned chairs or disarranged furniture.
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