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" "Hum!" said Hogarth, looking fixedly at him. " "Curse you!" cried Jack, furiously,—"curse you!—curse you!" "Swear away, Captain," rejoined Blueskin, coolly. Why do women take to lies and deceit and trickery as naturally as a duck to water?” “You are not alluding, I hope, to Miss Pellissier?” Ennison said stiffly. "My portrait!" echoed Jack. Upon which Mrs. She never grew angry for anything her husband did: such anger as came to her was directed against the lazy, incompetent servant who was always snooping about in the inner temple—Spurlock's study. She sat in a chair in the parlour and regarded the darkening sky through the small casement window.
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