“How ridiculous! Fancy you with all that money! For heaven’s sake, though, do not go about playing the Don Quixote like this. The pistol fell to the floor. I'm one of those unfortunate duffers who have too much imagination—the kind who build their own chimeras and then run away from them. . Lad, that fuddles me!" "Did you bring me down here to crucify me?" cried Spurlock, in passionate rebellion. It's hereditary, like de jigt, vat you call it—gout —haw! haw!" "If the child is destined to the gibbet, Van Galgebrok," replied the Master, joining in the laugh, "it'll never be choked by a footman's cravat, that's certain; but, in regard to going back empty-handed," continued he, altering his tone, and assuming a dignified air, "it's quite out of the question. “My dear sweet Lucia. . "You have said," pursued the widow, "that she, who has once erred, is irreclaimable. "You're not hurt I hope, Sir Rowland?" inquired this individual.
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