She sat on the edge of her bed and looked about her, at her room, at the row of black-covered books and the pig’s skull. “I certainly knew him no better than you. "And his lordship, furthermore, requests me to state," proceeded Sharples, in a hoarse tone, "that he'll be responsible for the doctors' bill of all such gem'men as have received broken pates, or been otherwise damaged in the fray—ough! ough!" "Hurrah!" shouted the mob.
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