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. Jack had thus been six hours in accomplishing his arduous task. “Let us go to that little place at the back of the Palace. The thousand voices which a few moments before had been so clamorous were now hushed. As he balanced the photograph, a humorous twinkle came into his eyes. " So saying, she planted herself between Jack and the turnkey. Why can’t you let it be?’ Gerald grinned at him. ‘Well, I can see you won’t let it alone, so what do you propose to do about the wench?’ ‘I’ll die before I let it alone,’ Gerald vowed.
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