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I was Annabel the rake, ‘Alcide’ of the music halls. " "Exactly my sentiments," rejoined Blueskin. With me behaving as if everything was infinitely matter-of-fact, what could he do? And just then Heaven sent old Manningtree—I didn’t tell you before of the fortunate intervention of Manningtree, did I? He was looking quite infernally distinguished, with a wide crimson ribbon across him—what IS a wide crimson ribbon? Some sort of knight, I suppose. For a stunned moment, Emile did not speak. “Thank you. This obstacle removed, he thought he might now make the attempt. That is what I’ve had on my conscience. It is magnificent indeed.
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