He heard the struggle on the landing, the fall of the heavy body, the groan,—and excited almost to frenzy by his fears, he succeeded in forcing open the door. His hat was placed upon one pole, his wig on another. Good-bye aunt. " "And were I in yours," rejoined the woollen-draper, "I should be doubly apprehensive, because he's a professed friend. “Who’ll mind the baby nar?” was one of the night’s inspirations, and very frequent.
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