” “It’s very good to be alive. " "Gem'men o' the votch!" cried Sharples, as loudly as a wheezy cough would permit him, "my noble pris'ner—ough! ough;—the Markis o' Slaughterford ——" Further speech was cut short by a volley of execrations from the angry guardians of the night. ‘Your master in?’ he demanded of the astonished footman, removing his cockaded hat and handing it over. But the rise of the chest was quite perceptible now.
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