You won't have him long. " "As many as you please," replied Wood, walking towards the chimney-piece, and taking down a constable's, staff, which hung upon a nail. " "Curse you!" cried Jack, furiously,—"curse you!—curse you!" "Swear away, Captain," rejoined Blueskin, coolly. ‘What is this fate?’ ‘Un mariage of no distinction.
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