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In the distance a barrel-organ was grinding out a pot pourri of popular airs. ” “Don’t be foolish,” he said sharply. His voice had broken. Capes was something superadded. It was lent me by a countryman o' mine; but I paid him back in his own coin—ha! ha!" "A countryman of yours, Terry?" "Ay, and a noble one, too, Quilt—more's the pity! You've heard of the Marquis of Slaughterford, belike?" "Of course; who has not? He's the leader of the Mohocks, the general of the Scourers, the prince of rakes, the friend of the surgeons and glaziers, the terror of your tribe, and the idol of the girls!" "That's him to a hair?" cried Terence, rapturously. “How will you live?” she appealed. ‘You should not kiss me at all, and undoubtedly I should kill you.
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