The blood temporarily halted to her brain, Michelle slept peacefully again. He picked up the broken fiddle and beckoned. “I won’t give you a check though—Yes, I will. "I beg your pardon," he cried; "but really—ha! ha!—you must excuse me!—that is so uncommonly diverting—ha! ha! Do let me hear it again?—ha! ha! ha!" "Upon my word," rejoined Wood, "you seem vastly entertained by my misfortunes.
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