To her mind, recalling the picture of him the night before, there had been something tragic in the grim silent manner of his tippling. How many ends had he? Well, she must cease to trouble herself for this imbecile, whom it would give her very much pleasure to shoot. "And now," he continued, sternly, "was it your master who has just ridden by?" "No," answered Quilt, sullenly. "Two hundred pounds, if he's lodged in Newgate before to-morrow morning," continued Wild.
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