‘What would you? The nuns they would not believe me, and so it was not possible for me to stay. Here was a poor half-naked creature, with a straw crown on his head, and a wooden sceptre in his hand, seated on the ground with all the dignity of a monarch on his throne. Rummage, my boy, do. It was an awful moment—so awful, that every other feeling except deep interest in the scene seemed suspended. I understand. “Poor little Miniver! What can she be but what she is?. “My dad is into this stuff. . An electric light flashed out from the wall. "May I be cursed," muttered Sheppard, as he slunk away with (as the woollendraper pleasantly observed) 'a couple of boxes in charge,' "if ever I try to be honest again!" "Take a little toasted cheese with the swig, Mr.
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