“But I have forbidden it!” he said, raising his voice. Woman's love of silk is not set by fashion; it is bred in the bone; and somewhere, somehow, a woman will have her bit of silk. “And yet,” he said, “you bid me talk cheerfully, or not at all. I can assure you, I wouldn’t be single again for worlds. Was he planning on spending more time with her once in the country? The streets choked with beggars and the dying. ’ He moved to his friend and grasped his hand in a gesture as deliberately dramatic as the storytelling of mademoiselle. Come along, my Newgate bird!" he continued, shaking him with great violence.
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