"Hell's curses!" roared Jonathan. He wisely refrained from questioning the manager of the Victoria. ‘You can’t prove nothing. Wood dandled his little charge to and fro, after the most approved nursery fashion, essaying at the same time the soothing influence of an infantine melody proper to the occasion; but, failing in his design, he soon lost all patience, and being, as we have before hinted, rather irritable, though extremely well-meaning, he lifted the unhappy bantling in the air, and shook him with so much good will, that he had well-nigh silenced him most effectually. Ramage did not know. I wouldn't be in his skin for a trifle!" "But he may peach," said Smith casting an oblique glance at Jackson. I’ve muddled all this business.
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