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So, bloody but unbeaten, weak and spent but undaunted, he waited for the Wastrel to spring up. "Nothing—nothing," she answered, bursting into tears. " "Ha! hussy, dare you threaten?" cried Wild; but, checking himself, he turned to Ireton and asked, "How long have the women been gone?" "Scarcely five minutes," replied the latter. “Who’ll mind the baby nar?” was one of the night’s inspirations, and very frequent. .
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