"And now," he continued, sternly, "was it your master who has just ridden by?" "No," answered Quilt, sullenly. I do want them. Wood," added she in a hollow voice, and with a ghastly look, "gin may bring ruin; but as long as poverty, vice, and ill-usage exist, it will be drunk. ‘Laisse-moi,’ she threw at him, her brief attack of sobs already ended, although the trace of tears on her cheeks bore witness to its sincerity. She came back with two women, one in each arm, which she threw down like sticks as she alit onto the stone causeway.
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