"The pocket-book you prigged contained the letters I wanted. "I beg your pardon," he cried; "but really—ha! ha!—you must excuse me!—that is so uncommonly diverting—ha! ha! Do let me hear it again?—ha! ha! ha!" "Upon my word," rejoined Wood, "you seem vastly entertained by my misfortunes. If I were Mr. F. If I don't, you shall clap me in the Condemned Hold in his stead.
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