"You've but a sorry lodging, Mrs. " "What's that?" "Think it over," said McClintock, grimly. Wood, you shan't lord it over me, I can promise you. ” A momentary bitterness crept into Anna’s tone. "Curse you! Where are the bailiffs? Rot you! have you lost your tongue? Devil seize you! you could bawl loud enough a moment ago!" "Silence, Blueskin!" interposed an authoritative voice, immediately behind the ruffian. ’ ‘I shall stop him,’ declared the old lady furiously. Still, one never could tell.
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