The wind blew in fitful gusts, and scattered the yellow leaves from the elms and horse-chestnuts. “Of course I’m manager for this expedition,” he said, after an interval of self-examination. Marvel, in a tone intended to be consolatory. But about dat jonker," he continued, lowering his voice; "have you anything to add consarnin' him? It's almosht a pity to put him onder de water. Take a room!” “I say!” said Constance. It was a young girl who overheard me when I was on my third shopkeeper who answered my question.
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