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They had played several rubbers, when the striking of ten o'clock
rendered Mr. Swiveller mindful of the flight of time, and of the
expediency of withdrawing before Mr. Sampson and Miss Sally
Brass returned.

"With which object in view, Marchioness," said Mr. Swiveller gravely. "I
shall ask your ladyship's permission to put the board in my pocket, and
to retire. The Baron Sampsono Brasso and his fair sister are, you tell
me, at the Play?" added Mr. Swiveller, leaning his left arm heavily upon
the table, and raising his voice and his right leg after the manner of a
theatrical bandit.

The Marchioness nodded.

"Ha!" said Mr. Swiveller, with a portentous frown. "'Tis well.


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