"Only the dog," replied the rough tones of a man. His literary instincts began to stir. Aware of the footman hovering, and the hackney coachman’s curious eyes looking down from his box, Gerald leaned a little towards her and spoke in a lowered tone. "I am too much honoured—too happy in the union. "Now—begin. The comparisons upon which she could draw were few and confusingly new, mixed with reality and the loose artistic conceptions of heroes in fiction. She lost it in the Mint.
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