9. It was a letter. "I am very wicked," she said. Her faculties seemed for a moment numbed. “Let me introduce you to Caesar,” he said; and she patted Caesar’s neck, and remarked how soft his nose was, and secretly deplored the ugliness of equine teeth. It did not matter in the least what name the young fellow was travelling under; all James Boyle O'Higgins wanted was the letter H. “Oh. ‘—without telling her why,’ he finished, ignoring the interjection.
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