" "Don't be too sure of that," rejoined Kneebone, snatching up the staff, and aiming a blow at his head, which was fortunately warded off by Mrs. " A peculiar smile illuminated Jack's features. He contrived to break off his sister's match; and this he accomplished so cleverly, that he maintained the strictest friendship with Sir Cecil. Gerald raised his cockaded hat, and smiled. I’m sorry Lucy. The conflict was of short duration; for Shotbolt was no match for his athletic antagonist. The fire—if there was any in him—never made headway against this insistant demand to know the significance of these manifold inward agitations. For heaven’s sake, give him some Madeira or something, Gerald! Anything to calm him down.
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