"Mother!" she echoed,—"mother! why do you call me by that name?" "Because you are my mother. “You know I’m old-fashioned, Miss Stanley. Then there was Tom Jarrot, the hackney-coachman, who was pitched off the box against yonder curbstone, and broke his leg. . "Is it poison?" she asked. They all left the room. He did not so much cut into this conversation as loom over it, for he was a tall, if rather studiously stooping, man. ” John said. ” “And you?” “Rather!” “I wonder why?” “There’s no why. ” “Will you tell me,” Sir John said ponderously, “by what right you call that young lady—la petite Pellissier? I should be glad to know how you dare to allude to her in a public place in such a disrespectful manner!” Drummond looked at him and smiled.
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