"I beg your pardon," he cried; "but really—ha! ha!—you must excuse me!—that is so uncommonly diverting—ha! ha! Do let me hear it again?—ha! ha! ha!" "Upon my word," rejoined Wood, "you seem vastly entertained by my misfortunes. Charcoal, you may bring in the boy. " The young woman laid a finger on her lips, cautioning O'Higgins to silence. I’m not discussing Shakespeare. My business is with Lady Trafford.
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