The bars dropped noiselessly and slowly down, till the chain tightened at the staple. Kneebone. "Vell," he growled, addressing Quilt, "you know who's here, I suppose?" "To be sure I do," replied Quilt; "my noble friend, the Marquis of Slaughterford. It had ceased raining, but the atmosphere was moist and chill, and the ground deluged by the recent showers. “So am I the jewel or the bug inside?” He smiled.
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