They were sounding more and more like Civic every day. “You remember the man in Paris who used to follow me about—Meysey Hill they called him?” He nodded. ‘I thought it was his great-nephew, young Brewis Charvill, who is his heir. They had much to talk about, or rather Miss Prudence had. ’ ‘No. It's mighty lonesome down there for a man bred to cities. The hope that had been suddenly kindled in the youth's bosom was as suddenly extinguished. She loved to dress the Fritz and Anna in outfits that she stitched from discarded velvet dresses. “You poor thing. But, bloodan'-'ouns! man, if ould Nick himself were to hit me a blow, I'd be afther givin' him another.
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