Chapter XXX SIR JOHN’S NECKTIE Sir John, in a quiet dark travelling suit, was sitting in a pokey little room writing letters. "It is," replied Sheppard. Anna was sitting before the fire a little distance from him—Ennison himself remained standing. “It was best for me to know. "What!" she exclaimed, almost choked with passion,—"I advised you to burthen yourself with that idle and good-for-nothing pauper, who'm you ought rather to send to the workhouse than maintain at your own expense, did I! I advised you to take him as an apprentice; and, so far from getting the regular fee with him, to give him a salary? I advised you to feed him, and clothe him, and treat him like his betters; to put up with his insolence, and wink at his faults? I counselled all this, I suppose. Having made a hole in the wall sufficiently large to pass through, Jack first tossed the bar into the room and then crept after it. I’m sorry I ruined dinner. " "Awake!—to be sure I am, my flash cove," replied Sheppard; "I'm down as a hammer. "Excuse me," he said, plunging his fork into a fowl, and transferring it to his plate. ” She blushed deeply. Her father and her husband, who had both been a little pale at their first encounter, were growing now just faintly flushed. At the open door stood a young man in a rich garb with a mask on his face, who was encouraging the mob by words and gestures.
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