That is what my mother used to call me. ‘A spitfire, ain’t she, sir?’ Roding ignored this. Lucy spoke once they had turned the corner. " "Well, well, since you desire it, I'll say no more," returned Wood. "Try!" Enraged at the assurance of his mistress, the woollen-draper endeavoured to carry his threat into execution, but all his efforts to remove her were unavailing. I didn't understand then, but I do now. His business has thriven; legacies have unexpectedly dropped into his lap; and, to crown all, he has made a large fortune by a lucky speculation in South-Sea stock,—made it, too, where so many others have lost fortunes, your humble servant amongst the number—ha! ha! In a word, Sir, Mr.
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