The chair had extension arms over which a man might comfortably dangle his legs. “You heard no pistol-shot?” “None. 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. It was she who had come out from the flat only a few minutes before. Why aren’t you folded up clean in lavender—as every young woman ought to be? What have you been doing with yourself?. After that consolations fled.
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