The present divinity of the cellar was a comely middle-aged dame, almost as stout, and quite as shrill-voiced, as the Billingsgate fish-wives above-mentioned, Mrs. “I’d rather go as a chorus-girl,” she said. ” “I wish,” said Ann Veronica, with sudden anger, “that you could know what it is to live in a pit!” She stood up as she spoke, and put down her cup beside Miss Garvice’s. "A sail?" said McClintock. Shortly afterwards,—it seemed an age to the anxious mother,—Mr.
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