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In a moment he was beside her. “It’s like Troy!” said a voice of rapture. ‘But—’ ‘Nothing at all for you to worry your head over,’ said the captain, moving to try and usher her forth. They sat down in a covered pavilion that housed a grimy picnic table and a dingy fire pit. Yesterday this glorious creature had loved him; to-day she was only friendly. She heard her husband’s heavy tread descending the stairs, and the wheels of his carriage as he drove off. A man’s children nowadays are not his own. 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. “Not possible. Who were you looking for tonight? One of the émigrés? There were several in there.
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