“The life of a private secretary is positively one of slavery. . ’ ‘Lord, yes,’ agreed Gerald, in mock horror. You cannot—shall not retreat. ” Ann Veronica said something about a general change of ideas. "Ah!" exclaimed Lady Trafford, exerting all her strength. A door in this house opened upon the yard. At this moment, the landlord of the Crown, a jovial-looking stout personage, with a white apron round his waist, issued from the house, bearing a large wooden bowl filled with ale, which he offered to Jack, who instantly rose to receive it. They will claim particular attention hereafter.
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