You do not need my compliments. "Vell," he growled, addressing Quilt, "you know who's here, I suppose?" "To be sure I do," replied Quilt; "my noble friend, the Marquis of Slaughterford. "Going to befuddle himself between now and dinner," was the comment of Prudence. " "And I trust you will never have occasion to weep again, my poor soul," replied Wood, setting down his lantern, and brushing a few drops from his eyes, "unless it be tears of joy. "Poor Mrs. “Well——” She stopped short.
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