There was a tearing sound as the canvas gave way, and the precious portrait ripped apart as the top of the Frenchman’s head came through it. “By God! Ann Veronica,” he said, sighing deeply. Mr. “Very,” and cracked a walnut appreciatively. " "We shall have a durty night on it, to a sartinty, landlord," observed an old oneeyed sailor, who sat smoking his pipe by the fire-side.
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