“I’m inclined to think, Stanley, myself that as a matter of fact it was the expurgated Romeo and Juliet did the mischief. “But if my manner tells! I cannot help it if that shows. In the heart of the jungle the dog had his private muck baths. A full-curled wig descended half-way down his back and shoulders; a neckcloth of "right Mechlin" was twisted round his throat so tightly as almost to deprive him of breath, and threaten him with apoplexy; he had lace, also, at his wrists and bosom; gold clocks to his hose, and red heels to his shoes. At the same time she was wildly exultant at the resolution she had taken, the end she had made to her blunder. “Wild horses—not if they have all the mounted police in London—shan’t keep me out.
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