It was no use. He could scarcely blame her. ” “Oh, Drummond’s dinner!” she repeated. She washed her face with unwonted elaboration before she went to bed. \"Thanks. Sheppard, if you please, Ma'am," interrupted the lad; "I allow nobody to call me Jack. As Leonardo had himself pronounced, who better than a mountebank to teach of the perils awaiting the unwary? Who better than a wastrel to demonstrate the worth of thrift? And who could instruct better in the matter of affections than one who had thrown them away? ‘If he had loved me,’ she said, in the flat tone she had learned to use to conceal her vulnerable heart, ‘he would have left me at Remenham House to live a life of an English lady. Muffling up his face, Jack turned away; but he had not proceeded many steps when he heard a man reading aloud an account of his escapes from a newspaper.
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