They were all stout ill-favoured men, attired in the regular jail-livery of scratch wig and snuff-coloured suit; and had all a strong family likeness to each other. " "But why not?" The doctor dallied with his teaspoon. I suspect he has a bit of vanity. “The point is we’re not toys, toys isn’t the word; we’re litter. "Mercy on us! what have I said!" cried the attendant, greatly alarmed by the agitation of her mistress; "do sit down, your ladyship, while I run for the ratifia and rosa solis. It was now a quarter past twelve.
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