" "Do what you please with him," muttered Trenchard to Wild. Baptist Kettleby (for so was the Master named) was a "goodly portly man, and a corpulent," whose fair round paunch bespoke the affection he entertained for good liquor and good living. His diminutive hand flew out from behind his back like a wounded bird. "And now," he continued, sternly, "was it your master who has just ridden by?" "No," answered Quilt, sullenly. Run along now; but return in half an hour. You did not complain then that I personated you—no, nor when Sir John came to me in Paris, and for your sake I lied. Oh! Christ! de door's shut! It musht have schwung to during de schuffle!" "Shut!" exclaimed Wild. "There'll be a louder echo here presently," thought Jonathan. She hesitated.
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