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"You muz egscuse my i'ony, Mistoo Itchlin; I can't 'ep that sometime'. It come natu'al to me, in fact. I was on'y speaking i'oniously juz now in calling allusion to that dust; because, of co'se, theh is no dust to-day, because the g'ound is all covvud with watah, in fact. Some people don't understand that figgah of i'ony."
He had to put shuttehs on his sitt'n'-room windows, too, you know, to quiet Sisteh March's ve'y natu'al fears. I only promised to lend him a small amount if he should need it." "O, he'll need it," said the Major, and included Barbara in his broad smile. "Still, I hope you'll let him have it. If he doesn't return it to you I will; I loved his father.
Yes, I'm always well, in fact. At the same time nevvatheless, I fine myseff slightly sad. I s'pose 'tis natu'al a man what love the 'itings of Lawd By'on as much as me. You know, of co'se, the melancholic intelligens?" "No," said Richling; "has any one" "Lady By'on, seh. Yesseh. 'In the mids' of life' you know where we ah, Mistoo Itchlin, I su-pose?" "Is Lady Byron dead?" "Yesseh."
"Ow penitent brother on'y asks you to bear his message. It's natu'al he should cling to the one pyo tie that holds him to us. O John, 'in wrath remembeh mercy! An' yet you may be the nearest right, God knows! O brethren, let's kneel and ask Him faw equal love an' wisdom!" Garnet rose to kneel, but March put out a protesting hand. "I wouldn't do that, sir."
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