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Updated: June 8, 2025
I never saw anything like it. 'That repartee wouldn't have done with a Dutchman or a Torbay trawler, said Stukely Culbrett. 'But let us hear more. 'Is it fair? Miss Halkett murmured anxiously to Mrs. Lespel, who returned a flitting shrug. 'Charming women follow Beauchamp, you know, Palmet proceeded, as he conceived, to confirm and heighten the tale of success.
Grancey Lespel added, while softly flipping some spots of the colour proper to radicals in morals on the fame of the French lady. She possessed fully the grave judicial spirit of her countrywomen, and could sit in judgement on the personages of tales which had entranced her, to condemn the heroines: it was impolitic in her sex to pity females. As for the men poor weak things!
I'll say for the Whigs, they would not be seen touting for Tories if they were not ghosts of Whigs. You are dead. There is no doubt of it. 'But, Grancey Lespel repeated, 'if there's no doubt about it, how is it I have a doubt about it? 'The Whigs preached finality in Reform. It was their own funeral sermon. 'Nonsensical talk!
'They have Captain Beauchamp's address hung up there, I have heard, said Mrs. Lespel. 'There may be other things another address, though it is not yet, placarded. Come with me. For fifteen years I have never once put my head into that room, and now I 've a superstitious fear about it. Mrs.
Culbrett asked him; and several gentlemen fell upon him for an account of the day. Palmet grimaced over a mouthful of his pie. 'Bad! quoth Mr. Lespel; 'I knew it. I know Bevisham. The only chance there is for five thousand pounds in a sack with a hole in it. 'Bad for Beauchamp? Dear me, no'; Palmet corrected the error. 'He is carrying all before him.
Astonishment and laughter surrounded him, and Palmet looked from face to face, equally astonished, and desirous to laugh too. 'Ernest! how could you do that? said Mrs. Lespel; and her husband cried in stupefaction, 'With Beauchamp? 'Oh! it's because of the Radicalism, Palmet murmured to himself. 'I didn't mind that. 'What sort of a day did you have? Mr.
I'll say for the Whigs, they would not be seen touting for Tories if they were not ghosts of Whigs. You are dead. There is no doubt of it. 'But, Grancey Lespel repeated, 'if there's no doubt about it, how is it I have a doubt about it? 'The Whigs preached finality in Reform. It was their own funeral sermon. 'Nonsensical talk!
Grancey Lespel added, while softly flipping some spots of the colour proper to radicals in morals on the fame of the French lady. She possessed fully the grave judicial spirit of her countrywomen, and could sit in judgement on the personages of tales which had entranced her, to condemn the heroines: it was impolitic in her sex to pity females. As for the men poor weak things!
And then they fled, chased forth either by the brilliancy of the politically allusive epigrams profusely inscribed around them on the walls, or by the atmosphere. Mrs. Lespel gave her orders for the walls to be scraped, and said to Cecilia: 'A strange air to breathe, was it not? The less men and women know of one another, the happier for them. I knew my superstition was correct as a guide to me.
'A fluid borough, I'm afraid. Colonel Halkettt interposed: 'But Ferbrass is quite sure of his district. Cecilia wished to know who the man was, of the mediaevally sounding name. 'Ferbrass is an old lawyer, my dear. He comes of five generations of lawyers, and he 's as old in the county as Grancey Lespel.
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