An' now ye tell me ye don't want it, which it makes me feel lonesomer 'n a tarred Tory an' kind o' sorrowful--ayes, sir, it does." Solomon's voice sank to a whisper.
"Forgive me," said Jack.

"I didn't know you felt that way.

But I'm glad you do.

I'll take it on the understanding that as long as I live what I have shall also be yours." "I've two hundred poun' an' six shillin' in my pocket an' a lot more hid in the bush.

It's all yourn to the last round penny.