. Each of my scholars thinks it his own shirt. " "For whom, Sir?" inquired Charcam. To these she added the wine and spirits directed, and when all was arranged looked inquisitively at her master. " "Wood!" exclaimed Trenchard,—"of Wych Street?" "The same. . I must apologize for my young puppy of a clerk. ‘If you did not want me to talk of it,’ she told him with characteristic insouciance, ‘you should not have mentioned the matter to me. She had agonized over it for weeks. " "Who told you this is his portrait?" demanded Trenchard. The miserable woman staggered, uttered a deep groan, and fell senseless on the straw. She trailed him to his apartment and a black door that read 727 in solemn gold-tone lettering.
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