Clientèle was of the most transitory character. A wife formed part of his scheme of life, for several years he had been secretly but assiduously looking for her. General Lord Charvill disinherited him for his pains. They laughed and talked and stared about them. "You are my prisoner, Jack. " As he said this, he moved forward a few paces, when, finding his feet glued to the ground by some adhesive substance, he stooped to feel what it was, but instantly withdrew his hand, with an exclamation of horror. She had to wait some minutes in an outer office, wherein three young men of spirited costume and appearance regarded her with ill-concealed curiosity and admiration. And, without another word, he seized the table with both hands, and upset it; scattering plates, dishes, bottles, jugs, and glasses far and wide. In fact, the whole face had undergone a transformation. But the vicomte has said that his sister may remain, but that the daughter must go.
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