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Wood!" "Leave go!" thundered Blueskin—"leave go—you'd better!"—and he held the sack as firmly as he could with one hand, while with the other he searched for his knife. “Go to the far corner,” he said, “and sing the last verse of Les Petites. Wood had the advantage of her husband in point of years, being on the sunny side of forty,—a period pronounced by competent judges to be the most fascinating, and, at the same time, most critical epoch of woman's existence,—whereas, he was on the shady side of fifty,—a term of life not generally conceived to have any special recommendation in female eyes. ’ And with that he went off to the City, stern and silent, leaving his bacon on his plate—a great slice of bacon hardly touched. “Like him who stood on Darien I view uncharted sea Ten thousand days, ten thousand nights Before my Queen and me. ‘I assure you it was mutual.
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