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This is simply a chapter of coincidences. " "Company!" echoed Rachel; "at this time of night?" "Company, child," repeated Kneebone. "Aha! my lad!" he cried without appearing to regard the pain of the wound; "now I'll show you no quarter. ‘You could have fetched me home. Had he been trying to stop the grim descent, and had he dimly perceived that perhaps a fine deed would serve as the initial barrier? A drunken idea—a pearl in the midst of a rubbish heap.
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