That would be an unkind twist of fate. The whole incident was so unexpected that neither Courtlaw nor Brendon were awaiting. Stanley, to which the two ladies subordinated themselves intelligently. The cloth was removed, and Wood, drawing the table as near the window as possible—for it was getting dusk —put on his spectacles, and opened that sacred volume from which the best consolation in affliction is derived, and left the lovers—for such they may now be fairly termed—to their own conversation. Woof! What a dog.
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