‘The general himself?’ ‘How shall I get my inheritance if the general will believe that pig?’ ‘Do wish you wouldn’t keep on calling him a pig,’ Martha begged. She even hit the jackpot in 1952 when she found a photograph in a London issue of Vogue. " "Not at fisticuffs, perhaps," interrupted Jack, fiercely; "but I've my knife. "I think I may trust him with you, Sir," added she, taking up the candle.
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