"My horse has had a fall," replied Jack, assuming to perfection—for he was a capital mimic,—the tones of Quilt Arnold. “You see,” said Ann Veronica, staring before her at the window-sash, “that’s the form my question takes at the present time. "But you are a good man, and you'll understand. It was so hopeless to put it to them. Evidently her foresight has saved me a funeral. "Your health, Kneebone.
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