His cigar burnt out between his fingers, and he threw it impatiently away. "What have you seen?" inquired Lady Trafford. Your name. " "Accident or not," rejoined Sheppard; "you're no longer pall of mine. He trembled violently. He started toward the dog with the idea of ejecting him, but Ruth intervened. Ain’t enough as I’ve got militiamen quartered on me this se’ennight, lazing about all day, eating me out of house and home and drinking my liquor into the bargain. .
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