My only love is for my poor lost son. ‘Leonardo again,’ he growled. On the contrary, he was a universal favourite, and numbered amongst his intimate acquaintances the choicest spirits of the time,—Pope, Swift, Arbuthnot, and "all the better brothers. Then he turned to Anna. She rang again with the same result. It was his redemption, his ticket out of hell—that blue-serge coat. ” “I’ll pay you if I have to work at shirt-making at threepence an hour.
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