" "Death and the devil! what a cursed interruption!" cried Jack, impatiently. It’s a pure joy of giving—giving to YOU. "What would my poor mother say to it?" "I was sorry to see that about your mother, Jack," observed Hogarth. Ramage back his forty pounds. The little matter of an accent may be misleading, I grant you, but —’ He was interrupted, and with impatience. One can't help being jealous, you know, even of an unworthy object.
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