He wondered if the young fool had any idea of what he had drawn in this tragic lottery called marriage. “No, you weren’t bad in the slightest. Wood; "here's a pretty to-do about nothing. Besides these there was a warm gooseberry-tart, and a cold pigeon pie—the latter capacious enough, even allowing for its due complement of steak, to contain the whole produce of a dovecot; a couple of lobsters and the best part of a salmon swimming in a sea of vinegar, and shaded by a forest of fennel.
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