"Close the wicket, Austin," vociferated Ireton, in an authoritative tone. “Do you play an instrument?” “I play the fiddle sometimes. There was no longer any risk in association with her. At this juncture, a cry was raised by a servant from below, that the robbers were flying through the garden. “If I am,” he answered, reddening, “you can scarcely assert that it is without a cause. Kneebone invariably takes part with me, when any trifling misunderstanding arises between us.
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