This was number 13, Montague Street, familiarly spoken of in the neighbourhood as “White’s. I am very good at guessing names. “You were there, were you?” He laughed a little impatiently. 1. “You needn’t say a word more,” Mr. Wood, by whom it was formerly occupied. "My horse has had a fall," replied Jack, assuming to perfection—for he was a capital mimic,—the tones of Quilt Arnold. In military circles, highly exaggerated tales of Major Alderley’s derring-do were bruited from lip to lip and passed on to raw recruits to strengthen morale. Don't be afraid. "If I were your father, young gentleman," returned Jackson, enraged at the interruption, "I'd teach you not to speak till you were spoken to.
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