But you, Ferringhall, our pattern, an erstwhile Sheriff of London, a county magistrate, a prospective politician, a sober and an upright man, one who, had he aspired to it, might even have filled the glorious position of Lord Mayor— James, a whisky and Apollinaris at once. Jack submitted to this scrutiny with a very bad grace, and vehemently protested his innocence. A queer nut. You might trust me with the Chevalier himself,—I'd never betray him.
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