Look here. Jack was a comical scoundrel, and made a little too free with his grace's best burgundy, as well as his grace's favourite housekeeper. "My son! my dear, dear son!" returned Mrs. My heart misgives me. He addressed her by that title, and something in the tone disturbed her. He was just getting cross about your being late for dinner—you know his way—when it came. Three times he uttered a phrase: "A djinn in a blue-serge coat!" And each time he would follow it with a chuckle—the chuckle of a soul in damnation. Come, come, be reasonable, and listen to me.
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