"And the Marchioness is your daughter," added Thames. " "Oh, God!" cried Jack, "she does not know me. “I’ve brought you up some dinner, Vee,” she said. "My horse has had a fall," replied Jack, assuming to perfection—for he was a capital mimic,—the tones of Quilt Arnold. Advancing to the middle of the chamber, he halted, drew himself up, and fixed his dark, expressive eyes, on Thames Darrell.
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