“Serves you right if I’d cracked your skull. " "I declare I don't know what to do," said Wood, burned by conflicting emotions. I’ll give you grandpére!’ ‘But milor’—’ ‘Pardon!’ No longer master of his actions, the general lurched forward, waving his cane. "A capital instrument for my purpose," thought Jack, shouldering it, "and worth all the trouble I have had in procuring it. I shall count it a privilege. You don’t wear a dinner coat with a flower in your button-hole, or last night’s shirt, or very glossy boots, nor do you haunt the drawing-room in the evening, or play at being musical. " "And have her warn my father! No. She cursed the treachery of memory, its frailty and spottiness.
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