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She looked up quickly. "Oh! nothin' partickler—mere curossity," replied Terence. " Awed by Jonathan's manner, Mrs. E. "What do you want?" he asked, in a gruff voice. "So, stir your stumps, Saint Giles; and, if you mean to lock us up, use despatch. You will make him get his daughter, if you please. “Dear friend,” she said, “this is a matter which you must leave to me to do as I think best. It hung from the centre of a stout pole, each end of which rested upon the calloused shoulder of a coolie; an ordinary Occidental chair with a foot-rest.
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