"Aw, piffle!" he said, half aloud and rather disgustedly, as he stepped out into the sunshine. Into one of these he waded and rolled and rolled, despite her commands. ‘I am saying so,’ protested Gerald mildly. She was dressed in a simple evening gown of soft creamy silk, with a yoke of dark old embroidery that enhanced the gentle gravity of her style, and her black hair flowed off her open forehead to pass under the control of a simple ribbon of silver. " "Gem'men o' the votch!" cried Sharples, as loudly as a wheezy cough would permit him, "my noble pris'ner—ough! ough;—the Markis o' Slaughterford ——" Further speech was cut short by a volley of execrations from the angry guardians of the night. "On the way to the cutters," said Ah Cum. “I’ve tried to make words tell it. Gosse would have killed me, and perhaps in the fight I might kill him. " "Not utterly," rejoined the other. If we don’t live it will think we are afraid of it. At least until we graduate. "Them's catchpoles, I s'pose, Sir, arter the gemman with a writ?" he observed. He regretted— more deeply than he could say—the occurrence of this evening.
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