"Hark 'ee, Ben," said the old sailor, knocking the ashes from his pipe upon the hob; "you may try, but dash my timbers if you'll ever cross the Thames to-night. He did not come out of his chloroform coma and sailed weakly to his death. " "'Ouns!" ejaculated Terence, in alarm, "would you turn snitch on your old pal, Quilt?" "Ay, if he plays a-cross," returned Quilt. "I've counted ten coffins so far. "Married!—no—no," replied the woollen-draper. Master, your humble servant. ” End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Ann Veronica, by H. ” She passed out without reply.
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