Take your case, for instance. He wore a threecornered hat, a sandy-coloured scratch wig, and had a thick woollen wrapper folded round his throat. It's hereditary, like de jigt, vat you call it—gout —haw! haw!" "If the child is destined to the gibbet, Van Galgebrok," replied the Master, joining in the laugh, "it'll never be choked by a footman's cravat, that's certain; but, in regard to going back empty-handed," continued he, altering his tone, and assuming a dignified air, "it's quite out of the question. "Perhaps," replied Wood, doubtfully. Every afternoon, from now on, I will teach you a little about life—I mean the worldly points of view you're likely to meet. He was certain that those lips of hers had never known the natural and pardonable simper of youth. He lives in constant dread of a reappearance of ‘La Belle Alcide,’ and hearing it said that she is his wife’s sister.
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