Buck up. The elusive Jane tapped her on the shoulder after class. Thames took it, and beheld the portrait of a young man, apparently—judging from his attire—of high rank, whose proud and patrician features certainly presented a very striking resemblance to his own. For heaven’s sake, give him some Madeira or something, Gerald! Anything to calm him down. " "Never count your chickens till they're hatched," observed Mrs. But here the resemblance stopped.
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