" "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. “I wish this hadn’t turned up to-day of all days. . Earles attended her obsequiously to the door. . Had it not been lashed to the adjoining wherry, it must have been upset, and have precipitated the opponents into the water. " A shadow, which was not cast by the jib, fell upon them both. When she reflected that Mr. ToC "How do you mean to act, Sir?" inquired Trenchard, as soon as they were left alone. “Lucy, do you forgive me?” She looked at him in earnest.
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