Then there was Tom Jarrot, the hackney-coachman, who was pitched off the box against yonder curbstone, and broke his leg. ’ ‘Well, don’t blame me if you get your head blown off. Wood's anxiety to please her distinguished guests speedily displayed itself in a very plentiful, if not very dainty repast. Ruth stared thoughtfully at the waiting coolies. Then she went into the office. ‘And you!’ shrieked Melusine.
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