"It only leads to the fencing crib," replied Wild. " "The deuce he has!" cried Dump. During the narration Jack's features lighted up, and an expression, which would have been in vain looked for in repose, was instantly caught and depicted by the skilful artist. Then she glanced at the cards again, over which her aunt’s many-ringed hand played, and then at the rather weak, rather plump face that surveyed its operations. One morning he caught her hand suddenly and kissed it.
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