"You are alone?" said one of the spinsters—Prudence Jedson. In the midst of this light stood a young woman. “Why not?” “Because you are mine. She is like some character out of Phra the Phoenician: she's been buried for thirty years and just been excavated. "The ban-dogs!" thundered a tall man, whose stature and former avocations had procured him the nickname of "The long drover of the Borough market. ’ Dieu du ciel, but she was a fool. ‘Sapristi,’ he shouted angrily.
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