"Where to, master?" asked Ben, touching his woollen cap. He will wish to have his fears laid to rest. "Do you think I'd take the trouble to announce him? These are persons of consequence, I tell you. Don’t you think? Tum, tay, tum, tay. I fancy that this is a little more than playing at Bohemianism. Passing thought. Does HE know I keep you?. ” Her eyes glinted, macabre. " "Hold your tongue, sirrah," rejoined Shotbolt, not over-pleased by the remark, "and mind what I tell you. A stout female stood in the aperture, an oil lamp in her hand. As for this infatuation—it’s like some obsession, some magic thing laid upon you. He talked very little and rather absently. Put on that new dress—the one that's all white.
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