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"The shoulder-clappers!" added a lady, who, in her anxiety to join the party, had unintentionally substituted her husband's nether habiliments for her own petticoats. " "How so?" asked Thames. “David Courtlaw!” she repeated. He fell backwards on his butt, the wind knocked out of him. Then he was to arrest you and bring you home to me. With trembling fingers she opened the post-bag. Her head snapped back as he grabbed her by the hair. \"Hi Mark. ToC During the whole of the next day and night, the poor widow hovered like a ghost about the precincts of the debtors' garrison,—for admission (by the Master's express orders,) was denied her. I don't know whose brainless head it may be, but it'll do for my collection. He's on the ragged edge. Other phrases returned now, like echoes.
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