Maggot, eyeing him from head to heel with evident satisfaction;—"a devilish pretty fellow!" "Upon my word, Poll," said Kneebone, becoming very red, "you might have a little more delicacy than to tell him so before my face. ’ ‘Pah! Do you think I will run away? Do not be so foolish, and go and fetch him this instant. ” Everything was good. He looked at his port wine as though that tawny ruby contained the solution of the matter. CHAPTER XIX.
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