"The gentleman is a stranger to me, Poll," replied the woollen-draper, with increased embarrassment. ’ ‘The word of whom?’ came scoffingly from the pretty lips. One of the coolies held the paper lantern. Ramage’s bitterness passed as abruptly as his aggression. It resembled Mardi Gras, and she thought disdainfully of New Orleans. " "My penance forbids it," said Trenchard, waving his hand.
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