Wood dandled his little charge to and fro, after the most approved nursery fashion, essaying at the same time the soothing influence of an infantine melody proper to the occasion; but, failing in his design, he soon lost all patience, and being, as we have before hinted, rather irritable, though extremely well-meaning, he lifted the unhappy bantling in the air, and shook him with so much good will, that he had well-nigh silenced him most effectually. Wood in their favour. Have you ever voted, Mr. Something unpardonable is laid to my charge. Melusine came in, picked up the lantern, and heard the library door bang open just as the panel clicked closed behind her. Too late. “Good,” he said, as he watched the colour come back to her cheeks. From a bi-secting street came shouting and music.
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