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" "Poor soul!—poor soul!" groaned Wood, brushing the tears from his vision. So now I will say nothing more to you, and you will please to say nothing more to me, for I do not reply. The Idle Apprentice. And I suppose it is too much to expect that any entirely English young lady would be prepared to tolerate me for the remainder of my life. Do you think I forget it? Didn't they help themselves to all the plate and the money —to several of my best dresses, and amongst others, to my favourite kincob gown; and I've never been able to get another like it! Marry, come up! I'd hang 'em all, if I could. Wood. " "Enough!" rejoined Blueskin.
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