Stimulated by the promise of something handsome to drink, the man acquitted himself to admiration in the management of his lazy cattle. "These writer chaps are queer birds. ‘So this is Pottiswick’s French spy. " The girl fished into the bottle for an olive. “I thought I saw her in town to-day,” he said. ‘I’m a soldier, missie. " "Have it, and welcome," rejoined Figg.
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