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"He's not to blame," said Jack, rising. “I think as I feel in a good humour it must be the latter. ’ The girl held out her hands. What matters it? My servant, he is wounded—and by a Frenchman, if you wish to make an arrest. " "Never fear," replied Jack. What you want to do is to imagine every woman a Becky Sharp and every man a Rawdon Crawley. Stanley, to which the two ladies subordinated themselves intelligently. For a few minutes he kept them at bay. ’ ‘Like this?’ ‘Parfait. ' That has always haunted me. " "I've had the hard work to do, at all events," rejoined Jack, "But I won't complain.
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