” He held out his hand obediently. "What is he gone there for?" "With a message to the turnkey to look after his prisoner," replied Wild, with a cunning smile. You would rather live like the scum of the earth, in that little brown hovel you call a house, in bourgeois paradise. Do you know that this becomes a habit?” “If you would only teach us all,” he murmured, “how to acquire it. It had thrust her back with an undignified scuffle, with vulgar comedy, with an unendurable, scornful grin. Wood's astonishment and displeasure momentarily increased. . She speedily reached her own abode,—a little cottage, standing in the outskirts of the village. "You're not out yet, you young hound," rejoined Quilt, striving ineffectually to burst open the door.
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