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A slight rain fell at the time; and a few leaves, caught by the eddies, whirled around. Quilt, meanwhile, came down, examined the door, and finding it unfastened, locked it with a bitter imprecation on his brother-janizary's carelessness. So, one day, because God was wroth, her mother ran away with a blackguard, and died in the gutter, miserably. “I never wanted to kick any one so much in my life as that second fellow. ” She assented gently. There was a flash and a loud report. CHAPTER XXII.

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