"What would my poor mother say to it?" "I was sorry to see that about your mother, Jack," observed Hogarth. ‘You don’t mind if I sit down?’ She considered him a moment, her head a little on one side. His patient was distinctly of a different order of life. Holding the lamp over her rigid but beautiful features, Jonathan, with some anxiety, placed his hand upon her breast to ascertain whether the heart still beat. "Unless you have eaten a Syrian orange," he was always saying, "you have only a rudimentary idea of what an orange is. If not, I'll take a cheerful glass with you at the City of Oxford, on my way to Tyburn. ’ Footsteps sounded just outside, and Captain Roding walked in.
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