“We have no airs and graces here, and my hat hangs from a peg in the passage. She saw his purpose and his doubt hesitated also, and then went to him, took his coat lapels, and kissed him on the cheek. Dese ere not schouts, as you faind, but jonkers on a vrolyk; and if dey'd chanshed to keel de vrow Sheppard's pet lamb, dey'd have done her a servish, by shaving it from dat unpleasant complaint, de hempen fever, with which its laatter days are threatened, and of which its poor vader died. “You—appear to know my name, sir,” Sir John said.
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