‘You were supposed to be nursing him,’ Martha grumbled, ‘and helping him convalesce. "Mur—der!" roared Wood, struggling to free himself from his assailant, by whom he was half strangled. She caught at the idea. "Sir Rowland is murdered!" cried Jack, as soon as he could find a tongue. "Long life to the Marquis!" reiterated Terence; "he's an honour to ould Ireland!" "Didn't I tell you how it would be?" remarked Quilt. “It was great, Shari!” She replied the stars still in her eyes. Shot him, do you hear?” “Good God!” he exclaimed, looking at her curiously.
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