E. Her father’s ideas of expostulation were a little harsh and forcible, and
over the claret-colored table-cloth and under the gas chandelier, with his hat and
umbrella between them like the mace in Parliament, he and his daughter
contrived to have a violent quarrel. “If it will keep you busy,” he said, with a faintly ironical smile. Though Gerald must suppose it was
inevitable she should eventually come here. "How?" cried her brother, starting. E. "She is my lawful wife. I admired
your chivalry. It was
lent me by a countryman o' mine; but I paid him back in his own coin—ha! ha!"
"A countryman of yours, Terry?"
"Ay, and a noble one, too, Quilt—more's the pity! You've heard of the Marquis
of Slaughterford, belike?"
"Of course; who has not? He's the leader of the Mohocks, the general of the
Scourers, the prince of rakes, the friend of the surgeons and glaziers, the terror of
your tribe, and the idol of the girls!"
"That's him to a hair?" cried Terence, rapturously. Even in her own sorry skin-and-bones state of
wraithlike pallor and gray under eye circles she was
drawing unwanted attention from would-be admirers.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDMuMTQ0LjMuMTI5IC0gMDEtMDctMjAyNCAyMjo1Mjo0MyAtIDMwNjA4MjYz
This video was uploaded to damaulifm.org on 28-06-2024 00:02:25