. A pair of startled blue eyes looked up into his. " Mr. Courtlaw. A full-curled wig descended half-way down his back and shoulders; a neckcloth of "right Mechlin" was twisted round his throat so tightly as almost to deprive him of breath, and threaten him with apoplexy; he had lace, also, at his wrists and bosom; gold clocks to his hose, and red heels to his shoes. I should require you to accept no employment whatever upon the stage, and to remain out of England. “Of course,” he ventured, “I could try for more at the ‘Alhambra. It was really very nice of you, but to-morrow you will laugh at it as I do now. My mother died the day I was born; that’s what they tell me.
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