"It is droll," he said. "Every inch of it," replied the woollen-draper. "Oh gracious! he's lost. ’ Joy rose in Melusine’s bosom. Following his guide, Sir Rowland found himself in a large and lofty apartment, the extent of which he could not entirely discern until lights were set upon the table. The woollen-draper was no despicable trencherman in a general way; but his feats with the knife and fork were child's sport compared with those of Mr.
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