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"No"—as if her thoughts were elsewhere. "Close the wicket, Austin," vociferated Ireton, in an authoritative tone. "What's the particular dope?" "If I told you, you would laugh," answered Ah Cum, gravely. "Defend yourself!" cried Jack, drawing his sword. A white man, wandering about the streets of Canton at night, was a challenge to such a catastrophe. " "That reminds me he's still at large," returned Ireton. How came you by the hurt, eh?" "How did I come by it?—that's a nate question. She may address me as “Grandfather” if she chooses, since I’m obliged to accept her in that capacity.
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