" "'Ouns!" ejaculated Terence, in alarm, "would you turn snitch on your old pal, Quilt?" "Ay, if he plays a-cross," returned Quilt. “You and Anna,” she said, “seem to have stumbled upon a mare’s nest. "Good gracious! so I do," exclaimed his amiable consort. And then you go—and half throttle me. . ” She picked at her sandwich idly. She rapped on Michelle’s door loudly.
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