Wood,—"he'll never mend. "Two hundred pounds!" exclaimed Ireton, "besides the governor's offer—that's three hundred. " "I will—I will," replied Wood hastily. “You ass and imbecile, Ann Veronica! You female cad! Cad! Cad!. Now I shall never hear it but what this evening will come pouring back over me. "But don't ever let me see them again. Sheppard in the asylum, and take her this, and send her that;—and I've never prevented you, though such mistaken liberality's enough to provoke a saint. You must know, Sir, when he was a lad, the day after he broke into his master's house in Wych Street, he picked a gentleman's pocket in our church, during sarvice time,—that he did, the heathen. But—it’s one of the things I’ve just been thinking over. ‘Ah, the tragedy.
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