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Quiller-Couch, Arthur Thomas, Sir, 1863-1944

"Memoirs of His Adventures At Home and Abroad and Particularly in the Island of Corsica: Beginning with the Year 1756"

If we could
discover another such pair among the mob, now!"
"We are wasting time here for certain," said I. "And where, by the
way, is Billy Priske?"
"If you waste your time upstairs here, gentlemen," said Miss
Whiteaway, "belike you may do better in the parlour, where I had
prepared for some friends of mine with two-three chickens and a ham."
"Ah, to be sure," said I; "the packet-men!"
"Never you worry, young sir," she answered tartly, "so long as they
don't mind eating after their betters. And as for your man Priske, I
saw him twenty minutes ago escape towards Church Street with the
Methodists."
"Hang it!" put in Nat Fiennes, "if I hadn't clean forgotten the
Methodists!"
"We left them scurvily," said I; "every Jack and Jill of them but our
friend here." I nodded toward the little man in black. "And he not
only saved himself, but was half the battle."
The little man seemed to come out of himself with a start, and gazed
from one to another of us perplexedly.
"Excuse me, gentlemen." He drew himself up with dignity.
"Do my ears deceive me, or are you mistaking me for a Methodist?"
"Indeed, and are you not, sir?" asked my father.


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