Now, for the cage, my pretty canary-bird. I cannot think he will welcome a French émigré for his granddaughter. "What ho!" he cried slapping Smith, who had fallen asleep with the brandybottle in his grasp, upon the shoulder. “I think we are growing sensible,” he said. Wood, joining the group, "it isn't Thames Darrell come to life again?" "It is—it is!" cried Winifred, rushing towards him, and flinging her arms round his neck,—"it is my dear—dear brother!" "Well, this is what I never expected to see," said the carpenter, wiping his eyes; "I hope I'm not dreaming! Thames, my dear boy, as soon as Winny has done with you, let me embrace you.
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