“Fearful old fogey! I can’t imagine any sister of yours putting up with him for a moment. Better come another morning. Take that box, and put it into the carriage yourself. Jove, he didn’t take to it kindly, I can tell you. "Close the wicket, Austin," vociferated Ireton, in an authoritative tone. And I passed myself off as Meysey Hill, and since—then—I haven’t had a minute’s peace. “You certainly got him in the bag. “Would you mind calling that hansom for me?” He looked at it critically and shook his head. ‘What Gerald wants with you has me beat.
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