“I say!” he cried. On a stool eight feet high sat a small boy in a faded blue cotton, his face like that of young Buddha. I am engaged to sing every evening at the ‘Unusual’ music hall. “She’s my wife,” the man muttered. This purse," he added, chinking it in the air, "and this ring, were given me for him just now by the lady, who made a false step on leaving your house.
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