"My mother!—my poor mother!" ejaculated Thames, falling on his knees, and bursting into tears. "Right," said the Master, "I didn't think of her. I should like Mr. Gay, was a stout, good-looking, good-humoured man, about thirty-six, with a dark complexion, an oval face, fine black eyes, full of fire and sensibility, and twinkling with roguish humour—an expression fully borne out by the mouth, which had a very shrewd and sarcastic curl. Yes. But take a drop of wine," urged he, filling a drinking-horn and presenting it to her; "it's choice canary, and'll do you good. "Stop a minute, my dear," cried Austin. "Tom! Hey, Tom!" The Chinese cook thrust his head into the dining room.
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