A sprinkling of callow youths, and a couple of pronounced young Jews, who were talking loudly together in some unintelligible jargon of the City. Rot, no doubt; but we can’t alter it. " "'Zounds! Captain, I shall get my death of cold. Wood, in a whisper, as he filled a rummer to the brim, not to forget the health of the Chevalier de Saint George—a proposition to which the lady immediately responded by drinking the toast aloud. He is delightful, is he not?’ ‘That will do, Lucilla.
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