There were all varieties of bird-life known in these latitudes, from the bird of paradise down to the tiny scarlet-beaked love-birds. Sometimes the moon was totally eclipsed; at others, it shed a wan and ghastly glimmer over the masses rolling in the firmament. “You were really at Moulton House,” she exclaimed penitently. But finding his hints totally disregarded, he, at length, swaggered up to the table, and thrust in a chair. These were his mistresses, Poll Maggot and Edgeworth Bess.
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