She gaped at its keep, at least ten feet tall, a frightening gray coffin turned upright. ” “Not yet,” he said. She had a vision of policemen, reproving magistrates, a crowded court, public disgrace. Sharples," replied Quilt; "lock 'em up. The pistol was lowered slightly. "Oh! nothin' partickler—mere curossity," replied Terence.
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