It was the last thing she felt like drinking. " "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. ’ But the nun’s eyes had caught Gerald behind and she took instant umbrage. I consider even now that the present colour is far less becoming. His father spoke for him. " "But, my love," still remonstrated Wood, "you know I'm going to look after the boys——" "After Mrs.
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