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“It was poison—why not?” she answered. ’ Too late he saw his error. ” The corners of her lips rose along with her eyebrows. "I have just parted from one," said Trenchard. ” “A sort of history,” said Mr. I next proceeded to Jenny Bunch's, the Ship, in Trig Lane—there I got the same answer. “Don’t you understand, Nigel,” she said softly, “that it was precisely for this I have worked so hard. This young man, whose features, though rather plain and coarse, bore the strongest impress of genius, and who had a dark gray, penetrating eye, so quick in its glances that it seemed to survey twenty objects at once, and yet only to fasten upon one, bore the honoured name of William Hogarth. If he wants you, let him get you. Good-bye, for the pressent—ha! ha!" And, laughing loudly at his own facetiousness, he quitted the Lodge.
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