" "Who cares if we do?" retorted Sheppard, with a look of defiance. Coming from the gloom of the passage, even the corridors seemed sufficiently illuminated for them to see their way. Walpole for your apprehension. " "My writing! no such thing!" ejaculated the lady, casting a look of alarm at the woollen-draper. He looked like the shadow of himself—thin, feeble, hollow-eyed—his beard unshorn—nothing could be more miserable. Already she had sent him twenty pounds, and never written to explain to him why it was she had not sent it back sharply directly he returned it. " "'Ouns!" ejaculated Terence, in alarm, "would you turn snitch on your old pal, Quilt?" "Ay, if he plays a-cross," returned Quilt.
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