The Master of the Mint, in the exercise of his two-fold office of governor and publican, was mounted upon a chair, and holding forth to his guests in a speech, to which Mrs. Perhaps I may borrow yours one day?’ ‘Lucilla, you wretch,’ burst from the captain. As soon as she noticed the stranger, she honoured him with an extremely impudent stare, and scarcely endeavoured to disguise the admiration with which his good looks impressed her. Her hair got loose, her hat came over one eye, and she had no arm free to replace it. It’s an emerald. He could not pull her soul apart now to satisfy that queer absorbing, delving thing which was his literary curiosity; he had put her outside that circle. His looks were fixed on his old benefactor. Dear me, what a difference it has made! No one would ever think that we were sisters.
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