It was one of those old sliding trap affairs, narrow and steep of descent. In the north they called her Manitou, in the south, Pabothkew. "You are alone?" said one of the spinsters—Prudence Jedson. Annabel, tell me that you did not wish me dead. " "'Ouns!" ejaculated Terence, in alarm, "would you turn snitch on your old pal, Quilt?" "Ay, if he plays a-cross," returned Quilt.
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