"Quite sorry, my good friend, there should have been any misunderstanding between us," observed the woollen-draper. CHAPTER XIII. “I believe,” he said, “that you mean me to be Prime Minister. —"Oh! about that boy, Thames Darrell. Wood, was much better furnished with eatables than might have been expected, and boasted a loaf, a knuckle of ham, a meat-pie, and a flask of wine. Let me go my own way towards them. ’ ‘Ah, that explains your surprise. I wanted it badly.
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