just furtive meetings. Taking hold of the hilt of his own foil, he drew it forth. These were his mistresses, Poll Maggot and Edgeworth Bess. She gasped with pain, but she did not release her grip. She produced a handkerchief, and with one sweep of this and a simultaneous gulp had abolished her fit of weeping. Its walled heaved with black mildew and sea-salt. One never knew when it would be necessary to resume her disguise.
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