"Och! he's a broth of a boy!" "Why, I thought he'd broken your head, Terry?" "Phooh! that's nothing? A piece o' plaster'll set all to rights; and Terry O'Flaherty's not the boy to care for the stroke of a supple-jack. “And how did you find us here?” “I called at Montague Street a few minutes after you had left. “Ugh!” she said. "Do you compare your love—a love which all may purchase—with hers? No one has ever loved me. . The old fool’s been working on you through your sister to keep off the stage. “I don’t care,” said Ann Veronica to the darkness; “I’ll fight it. She began to draw on her gloves thoughtfully. It slid off flimsily. "Whatever you like, Hoddy," she agreed, wiping the sweat from her forehead.
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