The expression, however, which would chiefly have interested a beholder, was that of settled and profound melancholy. ‘But I’ve known that for years. The hard work will be his, until we yank this young fellow back from the brink. I’m sorry Lucy. Drive away the cat; throw that measure of gin through the window; and tell me why you've not so much as touched the packing-case for Lady Trafford, which I particularly desired you to complete against my return.
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