It was his redemption, his ticket out of hell—that blue-serge coat. ” “But why didn’t you prohibit once for all the whole thing? How dared she tell you that?” “Out of defiance. "Och! he's a broth of a boy!" "Why, I thought he'd broken your head, Terry?" "Phooh! that's nothing? A piece o' plaster'll set all to rights; and Terry O'Flaherty's not the boy to care for the stroke of a supple-jack. You are greatly altered. ‘What would you? The nuns they would not believe me, and so it was not possible for me to stay.
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