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“Neither Sydney nor I would think of such a thing. May I ask the nature of your interest in her?” He hesitated. “Shit!” John quickly countered, “What are you going to do? She’s a motor-mouth, Lucy, of the worst kind. Gag him," he added, pushing Thames rudely toward Quilt Arnold, "and convey him to the boat. “Annabel;” he moaned. ” “I’m not. 1. Sharples," replied Quilt; "lock 'em up. Nature is God, Anna, and the greatest artist of us all a pigmy.
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