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To her mind, recalling the picture of him the night before, there had been something tragic in the grim silent manner of his tippling. "My horse has had a fall," replied Jack, assuming to perfection—for he was a capital mimic,—the tones of Quilt Arnold. " "Tell it. I thought he was in Newgate. The latter were saved; but of the former nothing but the blackened stone walls were found standing on the morrow. Least of all myself.
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