" "Well, well—wait awhile," returned Quilt; "his lordship won't forget you. The thought of beauty became an obsession. The few pence left in her purse would only provide a very scanty lunch. She twisted to meet him and folded into his embrace. " "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. . How was I to know what would happen? He always said if he couldn’t get you a dowry, you could take the veil. I'll go with you.
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