‘Nothing would do for her but to come here,’ grumbled Hilary, wiping his heated brow with a pocket handkerchief dragged from his immaculate white uniform breeches. She knew his appetite from many a homemade dinner and knew also that he had taken Bitch Vorsack’s comments to heart. "Mac, you old son-of-a-gun!" "Got a man's breakfast?" McClintock demanded to know. Blueskin answered by dashing his head violently against the flagged floor. By this time, Jack's reputation had risen to such a height with the populace,—his exploits having become the universal theme of discourse, that the streets were almost impassable for the crowds collected to obtain a view of him. ’ ‘She?’ scoffed Martha. "Help!—help, Mr. Ireton and his friends to taste it.
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