‘How dull it must have been for you, poor little one. Couldn’t fit it inside, but the horse’s blanket lay over it, and, like I said, as long as no one rides him and don’t remove the blanket, I think it’ll stay hid. Wood, in a whisper, as he filled a rummer to the brim, not to forget the health of the Chevalier de Saint George—a proposition to which the lady immediately responded by drinking the toast aloud. "I am expected, I find," observed Jack, glancing at the well-covered board. She met him by the dugout after the game.
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