‘Hilary, thank God! Have you a pistol about you? Or better yet, your sword. " "Have it, and welcome," rejoined Figg. She had eaten little or no tea, and her mid-day meal had been worse than nothing. ’ ‘Is it, now? Well you won’t, then, for he won’t hear nothing, missie. He daren't quarrel with me: and if he does, let him look to himself. Never any doubt of it.
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