" "The same who was here just now?" "No, Sir Rowland, a much finer boy. " And, followed by Abraham, he rushed out of the room. ‘Tchah! So you’re the whelp’s girl, are you? Suppose you’ve nothing but that villainous French in your tongue. “Monsieur would dine! It was very good! And Madame, of course?” with a low bow. " "Take a glass of gin, Ma'am," cried Poll Maggot, holding up a bottle of spirit; "it used to be your favourite liquor, I've heard. I deemed it more prudent to send him to the Dark House than to bring him here, in case of any search after him by his adoptive father—the carpenter Wood.
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