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Maggot, that I'm engaged," said Kneebone, a little disconcerted. A crutch, with a silver handle, stood by her side, proving the state of extreme debility to which she was reduced. " "Take a glass of gin, Ma'am," cried Poll Maggot, holding up a bottle of spirit; "it used to be your favourite liquor, I've heard. This farewell had been particularly distasteful to him. "Gracious Heaven!" exclaimed the knight, upon whom a light seemed suddenly to break. ” She swept out of the room.
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