“Shit!” John quickly countered, “What are you going to do? She’s a motor-mouth, Lucy, of the worst kind. I shan't let you off a farthing. ‘Don’t fob me off, boy. ” She thanked him with one of her shy little glances. He's as nice and civil-spoken a gentleman as need be; by the same token," she added, in an under tone, "that he gave me a span new crown piece. "I've been wondering, until this morning, if you were real. "Leave the room," interposed Kneebone, angrily.
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