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’ He took his seat next to her, waving the fulminating captain towards the tray. . The sergeant had not seen it for he understood nothing of what she told him. “Drive to 13, Montague Street, cabman,” she ordered. "Why didn't you come out when I called you, you young dog?" cried Quilt in a savage tone. This last operation was so fatiguing, that for a short time he was obliged to pause to recover the use of his fingers. The real tragedy—which he sensed and toward which he was always reaching—eluded all his verbal skill.
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