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"Well, Mr. " "Horror!" cried Jack. He saw that his words were falling upon dull ears. It was lent me by a countryman o' mine; but I paid him back in his own coin—ha! ha!" "A countryman of yours, Terry?" "Ay, and a noble one, too, Quilt—more's the pity! You've heard of the Marquis of Slaughterford, belike?" "Of course; who has not? He's the leader of the Mohocks, the general of the Scourers, the prince of rakes, the friend of the surgeons and glaziers, the terror of your tribe, and the idol of the girls!" "That's him to a hair?" cried Terence, rapturously. Leave Martin Chen and his family alone. “Holy shit!” Giggling and snickering was amplified by asbestos tiles and reverberated by metal desks. ‘That little kiss cost him his sanctuary, my girl, and don’t you forget it.
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