" "Faix, then we'll do it in style," cried the fellow. “You’re not a man for me—not one of a sex, I mean. Wood had been my father, as well as yours. "Hell-hounds!" he cried; "release me!" At the same moment, Quilt Arnold rushed forward with such haste, that, stumbling over William Morgan, he precipitated him into the grave. He was engaged in detesting Manning and himself in almost equal measure.
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