‘I’ve finished me report, sir,’ Trodger said aggrievedly. A man's laced hat,—whether adopted from the caprice of the moment, or habitually worn, we are unable to state,—cocked knowingly on her head, harmonized with her masculine appearance. Like a hare closely pressed, Jack attempted to double, but the device only brought him nearer his foes, who were crossing the field in every direction, and rending the air with their shouts. ” “Why did you tell me? I thought—I thought we were going to be friends.
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