" "'Ouns!" ejaculated Terence, in alarm, "would you turn snitch on your old pal, Quilt?" "Ay, if he plays a-cross," returned Quilt. Peg after peg had gone down his blistered throat, but never had a smile touched his lips, never had his gaze roved inquisitively. "That gown is getting shabby. ’ Dieu du ciel, but she was a fool.
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