There's an animal! He thrives in all zones, upon all manner of food. Thames did not attempt to offer him any consolation, for he was almost as much dejected. He went on with his song, accompanying it with the most ridiculous grimaces: "When years were gone by, she began to rue Her love for the gentleman, (meaning you!) 'I slighted the journeyman fond,' quoth she, 'But where is my gallant of high degree? Where! where! Oh! where is my gallant of high degree?' Ho! ho! ho!" "What are you doing here!" demanded Thames. But what did the occupant of the box care? The laugh was always with the dead: they were out of the muddle.
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