\" She said, bashful. ” Ramage looked at her, and then fell into deep reflection as the waiter came to paragraph their talk again. " "Gem'men o' the votch!" cried Sharples, as loudly as a wheezy cough would permit him, "my noble pris'ner—ough! ough;—the Markis o' Slaughterford ——" Further speech was cut short by a volley of execrations from the angry guardians of the night. It was there in the breast pocket, stiff and legal looking.
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