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“You blithering idiot!” he exclaimed. “Miss Pellissier,” Brendon said gently, “I am afraid that some fresh trouble has come to you. His sword-arm fell useless at his side and she knew herself safe. I’m sorry to disappoint you. ‘If you had met her, you’d understand. But, suppose I've no place to lock 'em up in, how then?" Quilt looked a little perplexed. He not only did this, but supplied him with an ointment which allayed the swelling of his limbs, and crowned all by furnishing him with a jug of excellent ale.
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