“What of her? Have you quarrelled with her?” The girl shook her head. " "The very point I aim at," said Darrell as he passed through the outlet. She looked at him mournfully. Things were thrown here and there, to be taken up, or again cast aside, as the whim arose; while the broken-backed chairs and crazy table bore the marks of many a conflict. " "Take a glass of gin, Ma'am," cried Poll Maggot, holding up a bottle of spirit; "it used to be your favourite liquor, I've heard.
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