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Reade, Charles, 1814-1884

"A Simpleton"

Then I'm not myself.
Forgive my hasty tongue. You know I love you, dear!"
"Oh, ay! you love me well enough. But seems to me your love is precious
like cold veal, and your love for that chap is hot roast beef."
"Ha, ha, ha, ha!"
"Oh, ye can laugh now, can ye?"
"Ha, ha, ha!"
"Well, the more of that music, the better for me."
"Yes, dear; but go and tell him."
Dick went down, and said, "I've got no money to spare, till I get to the
Cape; but Phoebe has got a box full of suits, and I made her promise to
keep it out. She will dress you like a prince, you may be sure."
"Oh, that is it, is it?" said Reginald dryly.
Dick made no reply.
At nine o'clock they were on board the vessel; at ten she weighed
anchor, and a steam-vessel drew her down the river about thirty miles,
then cast off, and left her to the south-easterly breeze. Up went sail
after sail; she nodded her lofty head, and glided away for Africa.
Phoebe shed a few natural tears at leaving the shores of Old England;
but they soon dried. She was demurely happy, watching her prize, and
asking herself had she really secured it, and all in a few hours?
They had a prosperous voyage: were married at Cape Town, and went up
the country, bag and baggage, looking out for a good bargain in land.


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