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He then mounted the jaded hack, which had long since regained its legs, and was quietly browsing the grass at the road-side, and, striking spurs into its side, rode off. Return, I implore of you, to your master,—to Mr. This fruit was McClintock's particular pride. "The Wastrel seemed to take it all right. "Heaven be praised, I am not the son of a nobleman. For a few days he was able to relegate his conscience to the background. She was very pale, and there was a look of fear in her eyes. " "Anything else, Sir?" "No:—stay! you'd better not bring up any silver forks or spoons.
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