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"Or the street," returned Jack: "mind my words, the prison's not built that can keep me. ” Sir John stamped his letters, brushed his hat, and carefully gave his moustache an upward curl before the looking-glass. "Quilt Arnold, is that you?" "It is, Sir," sputtered the janizary. I was reduced to 170 a fool, for there were many pretty women from all walks of life in that teeming city.
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