Besides De L'Orge was reglarly and reely in love with Lady Griffin, and master only pretending: he had, of coars, an advantitch, which the poor Frentchman never could git.

He was all smiles and gaty, while Delorge was ockward and melumcolly.

My master had said twenty pretty things to Lady Griffin, befor the shevalier had finished smoothing his hat, staring at her, and sighing fit to bust his weskit.
O luv, luv! THIS isn't the way to win a woman, or my name's not Fitzroy Yellowplush! Myself, when I begun my carear among the fair six, I was always sighing and moping, like this poar Frenchman.

What was the consquints?
The foar fust women I adoared lafft at me, and left me for something more lively.

With the rest I have edopted a diffrent game, and with tolerable suxess, I can tell you.