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didn't know what to do."

"Marchioness," said Mr. Swiveller, "will you have the goodness to inform
me where I shall find my voice; and what has become of my flesh?"

The Marchioness only shook her head mournfully, and cried again,
whereupon Mr. Swiveller (being very weak) felt his own eyes
affected likewise.

"I begin to infer, Marchioness," said Richard, after a pause, "that I
have been ill."

"You just have!" replied the small servant, wiping her eyes. "Haven't
you been a-talking nonsense!"

"Oh!", said Dick. "Very ill, Marchioness, have I been?"

"Dead, all but," replied the small servant. "I never thought you'd get
better."

Mr. Swiveller was silent for a long period. By and by he inquired how


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