“I am afraid your broken dinner engagement will not be so easy to explain. It is in vain to struggle against the arm of fate. " "Where did he get it?" inquired Wood, in surprise. Shortly afterwards,—it seemed an age to the anxious mother,—Mr. Henry Clay, thirteen cents in Hong-Kong and two-bits in that dear old New York. On the floor was a handkerchief, a little morsel of lace.
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