The woollen-draper was no despicable trencherman in a general way; but his feats with the knife and fork were child's sport compared with those of Mr. CHAPTER I. "Good-b'ye, Jack," said Figg, putting on his hat. “I wonder,” she said, “why one writes him sentences like that? It’ll have to go,” she decided, “I’ve written too many already. She yielded it without protest, as though unconsciously.
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