"He is," returned Quilt, significantly. A grimy, battered object, which had no place in the fashionable quarter of town. There wasn’t, I know, between myself and my father. " The girl's blood ran warmly for a minute. "What for?" rejoined Quilt, evasively. " "A friend is not so soon gained as lost," replied Wood; "but how has the prediction been fulfilled, Joan, eh?" "I thought you would have guessed, Sir," replied the widow, timidly. You have been her guardian angel.
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