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Middlemarch George Eliot 7920K 2023-09-01

"Well, you can buy yourself a fine hunter now Eighty pound is enough

for that, I reckon--and you'll have twenty pound over to get yourself

out of any little scrape," said Mr Featherstone, chuckling slightly

"You are very good, sir," said Fred, with a fine sense of contrast

between the words and his feeling

"Ay, rather a better uncle than your fine uncle Bulstrode You won't

get ot a pretty strong

string round your father's leg, by what I hear, eh?"

"My father never tellsabout his affairs, sir"

"Well, he shows some sense there But other people find 'e _He'll_ never have much to leave you: he'll

most-like die without a will--he's the sort of man to do it--let 'em

make hiet

h you _are_ the eldest son"

Fred thought that Mr Featherstone had never been so disagreeable

before True, he had never before given him quite so much money at

once

"Shall I destroy this letter of Mr Bulstrode's, sir?" said Fred,

rising with the letter as if he would put it in the fire