CHAPTER VIII.
the wheat pit.
"As I walk along the Bois de Boulogne
With an independent air,
You should see the people stare.
You should hear them all declare,
Di-dum-di-dum-di-diddeldy-dum-
Da-di-do-di-dum-dare
There's the man that broke the bank at Monte Carlo."
Stranleigh was sitting in his library meditating when the joyous strains that accompany the above effort grew louder and louder as they progressed through the house, until the door opened and Blake walked in, looking very spruce and well-groomed, with hat slightly tilted on one side, as becomes a man with a good opinion of himself.
"Oh, I beg pardon," he cried, taking off his head-gear. "I thought the house was empty."
"It is, Blake, it is; for empty-headedness on the part of inmates does not fill a house. Wherefore
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