“We are clerks in the same bank. My poor son despairs of me, for I have primed every member of the family to bring me the latest novels whenever they choose to visit. “It was your own fault,” she exclaimed. "Look at it!" he felt like screaming. ” “God send you may never repent it!” cried Capes. “I think,” she said, “that I rather like what you have said. Wearied at length with thinking on the past, and terrified by the prospect of the future, he threw himself on the straw with which the cage was littered, and endeavoured to compose himself to slumber. “Then you—you will?” A long pause.
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