" Mr. “I’ve got it. They tracked the fugitive to the Mint; but, like hounds at fault, they here lost all scent of their prey. Sheppard, as a storm of furious voices resounded from below, and torches were seen mounting the stairs; "they are coming!—they are coming!—fly!—to the roof! to the roof. " "Halloo, Nab!" vociferated Quilt. “Thank you. You used to beg me for hours at a time to give it all up, never to go near the ‘Ambassador’s’ again. He was so horny that he could probably make love to a tree. ” An awkward moment of silence followed.
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