"Von't you hear me?—ough! ough!" demanded Sharples, after a pause. Mind, I, Baptist Kettleby, say so. " "I'm sorry I can't indulge you," replied her master, a little piqued. A constant attendant at court, he had the mortification to see every one promoted but himself, and thus bewails his ill-luck. "There's Sharples," cried Quilt. "Gad! it's a devilish fine face when lit up.
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