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There's a friend of Sir James—a young man, an engraver of masquerade tickets and caricatures,—his name I believe is Hogarth. The air, perfumed with the delicious fragrance of the new-mown grass, was vocal with the melodies of the birds; the thick foliage of the trees was glistening in the sunshine; all nature seemed happy and rejoicing; but, above all, the serene Sabbath stillness reigning around communicated a calm to her wounded spirit. I have an engagement with a theatrical agent—I believe for the ‘Unusual’. " "I'll excuse it nevertheless," returned the little damsel, affectionately extending her hand to him. "But, where's the strange gentleman I saw under the table?" "Under the table!" echoed Blueskin, winking at Jack. “I always get off here and lean over that rail for a bit. It vosh plain he vent dat vay. “When are you going away?” He asked. And at length her penultimate day in Morningside Park dawned for her. Her husband finally relented. It’s a damned hard thing to do. He is already married. What you would look upon as immorality is here merely an established custom, three thousand years older than Christianity, accepted with no more ado than that which would accompany you should you become a clerk in a shop.
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