" "Curse you!" cried Jack, furiously,—"curse you!—curse you!" "Swear away, Captain," rejoined Blueskin, coolly. Ann Veronica was in their very forefront. He wore a threecornered hat, a sandy-coloured scratch wig, and had a thick woollen wrapper folded round his throat. “I may not see the Widgetts for some little time, father,” she said. Englishmen also certainly. As though it was indelicate—it’s just a sort of shyness. “I’d rather go as a chorus-girl,” she said. Urging his steed along Oxford Road,— as that great approach to the metropolis was then termed,—he soon passed Marylebone Lane, beyond which, with the exception of a few scattered houses, the country was completely open on the right, and laid out in pleasant fields and gardens; nor did he draw in the rein until he arrived at Tyburn-gate, where, before he turned off upon the Edgeware Road, he halted for a moment, to glance at the place of execution. All our fraternity are afraid of him; but I laugh at his threats.
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