" "What is this to me, Sir?" said Trenchard, cutting him short. And now she had sent Jack away. They bounced without merriment over bumpy Roman roads, and by the time they arrived she was extremely nauseous. It's too hard. He “went in” for microscopy in the unphilosophical Victorian manner as his “hobby. ‘You know pretty much everything you need to know. That was what she was trying to make him understand. He carried a cane and a silk hat with a mourning-band in one gray-gloved hand; his frock-coat and trousers were admirable; his handsome face, his black mustache, his prominent brow conveyed an eager solicitude. Prudence reminded him that he was a county magistrate, and parliamentary candidate for a somewhat difficult borough, where his principal supporters were dissenters of strict principles who took a zealous interest in his moral character. Danger, in the form he apprehended, was lurking outside: nor was he destined to enjoy long repose.
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