Jonathan nodded assent. It has been only the sort of nonsense which passes lightly enough between half the men and women in London. "Thanks to you," said the doctor. Divers plans and figures were chalked upon the walls; and the spaces between them were filled up with an almanack for the year; a godly ballad, adorned with a rude wood-cut, purporting to be "The History of Chaste Susannah;" an old print of the Seven Golden Candlesticks; an abstract of the various Acts of Parliament against drinking, swearing, and all manner of profaneness; and a view of the interior of Doctor Daniel Burgess's Presbyterian meeting-house in Russell Court, with portraits of the reverend gentleman and the principal members of his flock. "Set it down, I tell you," thundered Blueskin, "or I shall do it a mischief. “You are one of the Hampshire Pellissiers, I know, and your family are quite as good as ours.
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