"He is," returned Quilt, significantly. ‘Do not move, messieurs, or I shall be compelled to blow off your head. ’ Grudgingly, the sergeant shifted aside and allowed her access to the stairs, grumbling to her retreating back, ‘If I’d me way, missie, I’d send you back to France where you ought never to have come away from, if you arst me. Then, if you are bad to me, I can more easily blow off your head. . Strange, I could never learn her history.
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