Wood's displeasure; and he was the more readily induced to do this, as the conversation began to turn upon his own affairs. Here was a poor half-naked creature, with a straw crown on his head, and a wooden sceptre in his hand, seated on the ground with all the dignity of a monarch on his throne. ‘Do you think I could endure to hear you prattling your abominable French in my ear day by day? Enough to drive me straight into my grave. If not, I'll take a cheerful glass with you at the City of Oxford, on my way to Tyburn.
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