"My horse has had a fall," replied Jack, assuming to perfection—for he was a capital mimic,—the tones of Quilt Arnold. She had never been to the opera before except as one of a congested mass of people in the cheaper seats, and with backs and heads and women’s hats for the frame of the spectacle; there was by contrast a fine large sense of space and ease in her present position. ‘Parbleu,’ she uttered indignantly. How came you by the hurt, eh?" "How did I come by it?—that's a nate question. I must obey.
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