CHAPTER XXIII. After all a thousand pounds is a trifle to rid you of an upstart, who may chance to deprive you of tens of thousands. F. He carried a cane and a silk hat with a mourning-band in one gray-gloved hand; his frock-coat and trousers were admirable; his handsome face, his black mustache, his prominent brow conveyed an eager solicitude. Died short, I suppose, and the girls had to shift for themselves. Then she examined with curiosity some knick-knacks upon a small round table by her side. It appeared he had already ordered dinner and wine, and the whiskered waiter waved in his subordinate with the soup forthwith. It’s my choice, Lucy.
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