” “May I put you in a hansom?” he asked, lifting his stick. Your mother, for instance, couldn’t. Would you stand by me—and her?” “My dear Nigel!” she exclaimed. It became suddenly glaringly apparent to her that it was impossible to return fifteen pounds or any sum less than twenty pounds to Ramage—absolutely impossible. Kneebone, a woollen-draper in Wych Street, with whose pockets, it appears, Jack, when a lad, made a little too free. " "Do you call ten guineas easy terms?" cried Wood, with a look of dismay.
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