Lucy was silent. A white apron was tied round his waist, and into the apron was thrust a short thick truncheon, which looked very much like a rolling-pin. And so Misther Wudd lives near the Black Lion, eh?" "He does," replied Thames. " "Swear it!" "I do. So, in broken, rather breathless phrases, he told his story; and when he had done, he laid his arms upon the table and bent his head to them.
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