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Anna, who had thrown aside her sealskin coat, wore a tight-fitting walking dress of some dark shade. “It jars. It was lent me by a countryman o' mine; but I paid him back in his own coin—ha! ha!" "A countryman of yours, Terry?" "Ay, and a noble one, too, Quilt—more's the pity! You've heard of the Marquis of Slaughterford, belike?" "Of course; who has not? He's the leader of the Mohocks, the general of the Scourers, the prince of rakes, the friend of the surgeons and glaziers, the terror of your tribe, and the idol of the girls!" "That's him to a hair?" cried Terence, rapturously. Oh the back of her arm she found the faintest down of hair in the world. "The Beachcombers. “Thank you,” she said coolly. No blowzy barmaids for him to-day: an American bar-keep to whom he could tell his troubles and receive the proper meed of sympathy.
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This video was uploaded to waterscolumns.info on 26-09-2024 04:16:51