" And springing backwards, he darted suddenly through the door. “By-the-bye,” he said, presently, “your sister was married to old Ferringhall the other day, wasn’t she? I saw the notice in the papers. Gracious, there’s the gong. He did not like it, he said, with a significant look, to be reminded of either his books or his dinners after he had done with them. Sometimes she missed her cue and nodded affirmatively when the gesture should have been the reverse; and Prudence would send her a sharp glance of disapproval. There's a friend of Sir James—a young man, an engraver of masquerade tickets and caricatures,—his name I believe is Hogarth. " "Mercy!" cried Mrs.
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