"Ay. " "What can be done for him?" cried Thames. E. ’ Trodger frowned, and chewed his lip. No matter how swiftly he pursued this riddle, he could not bring it to a halt. "Gracious Heaven!—is she the inmate of a mad-house?" "She is, Sir," answered the woollen-draper, sadly, "driven there by her son's misconduct. Voilà tout, as Melusine herself would say.
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