" "Well, Sir, his name?" "Jonathan Wild. There is the election——” He laughed derisively. After an affectionate parting with Winifred, Thames was conducted by the carpenter to his sleeping apartment—a comfortable cosy chamber; such a one, in short, as can only be met with in the country, with its dimity-curtained bed, its sheets fragrant of lavender, its clean white furniture, and an atmosphere breathing of freshness. With his tongue lolling and his flea-bitten stump wagging apologetically, he glanced from face to face to see if there was any forgiveness visible. “Girls of sixteen do not need their own laundry hampers. The twins weren’t far behind, they got put into the psych ward too.
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