"My chickens are hatched, or, at least, nearly so," replied Shotbolt, with increased merriment. ‘Now what?’ The girl’s voice was shaking, and there were, he saw now, angry tears in her eyes. But there was nothing in her bearing that a passer-by would have noted, to tell of the excitement that possessed her. What a pig she was. "The devil you have! Then, perhaps, you can tell me when he intends to put his threat into execution?" "What threat?" asked Jackson.
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