Behind the poet came Sir James Thornhill. People always rejoice at the misfortunes of others—never at their own! The droll dogs! how they must have enjoyed it!—ha! ha!" "I dare say they did. ” “Can’t we go down into Italy?” “No,” he said; “it won’t run to that now. "Your son's father was a thief; and Jonathan Wild (unless I'm misinformed,) was his friend,—so it's not unnatural he should show some partiality towards Jack. There was a sharp knocking at the outside door. "Surely," she said, after a pause, "you don't attach any importance to what my mother has just said. ‘Jacques?’ she called out, forgetting the need for silence. "I suppose he'll be on his feet any day now.
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