He sat down. A man is so apt to—to take women a little too lightly. Quarter-staves, bludgeons, brown-bills, lanterns, swords, and sconces were alike shivered; and, to judge from the sullied state of their habiliments, the claret must have been tapped pretty freely. God, Lucy, what’s it been, how many years?” “I’m so sorry, John. Anna sprang to her feet and made for the dressing-room door. There haven't been so many ladies in the Lodge since the days of Claude Du Val, the gentleman highwayman; and they all declare it'll break their hearts if he's scragged. “And where are YOU going?” he said. “I want a vote for myself,” she said.
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