" "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 very like it is!" "Not so strange, surely," laughed Thames, "that a picture should resemble the person for whom it's intended. ” Teddy made some confused noise, a thoracic street row; some remark was assassinated by a rival in his throat and buried hastily under a cough. . ‘Parbleu,’ she uttered indignantly. It's gin—a liquor you used to like. " With this, he struck the door a heavy blow.
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