I want him immediately, so you can send Frith with my phaeton if you like. " "Och! if he's a friend o' yours, my dear joy, there's no more to be said; and right sorry am I, I struck him. A grimy, battered object, which had no place in the fashionable quarter of town. I’m sorry to disappoint you. ” He rowed a stroke and watched the swirl of water from his oar broaden and die away. Lucy studied Katy for the rest of the game. Cheveney was looking after her, I think, then. " "It's mine, I'll be sworn," rejoined Wood.
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