His frowning gaze came back to her. Smith, now, being more than half-seas over, became very uproarious, and, claiming the attention of the table, volunteered the following DRINKING SONG. "A vow," she answered,—"a vow to my dead husband. ‘Now then, Gerald, out with it. “You must send for the police at once, you know. " "Iss, Massa Ireton," replied the black.
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