I was standing right in front of the man that abandoned me. […] He chose to chuck the deuces to an infant. I didn't have sympathy for this man.
Sounds like a quick death you may think, but I done it sev'ral times an' s'prisin' slowsome it is, b'lief me.
First Poets, all the World agrees, Write half to profit, half to please Matter and figure They produce; For Garnish This, and That for Use;
A great many of our inmates, Mr. Wells, have come to the Château de Schaerbeck as invalids, but before a month of their inmacy—if I may use a favourite expression of Mrs. B. — has expired, they have invariably trod the plancher in all the erect majesty of perfect health and strength.
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