"Stow it, Nab!" exclaimed Quilt, angrily; "the kinchen's awake. He has helped me out of scrapes though, no end of times. You have all the instinctive dexterity of parasites. " "Take a glass of gin, Ma'am," cried Poll Maggot, holding up a bottle of spirit; "it used to be your favourite liquor, I've heard.
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