He was leaning against a window frame, his hat in his hand. But, suppose I've no place to lock 'em up in, how then?" Quilt looked a little perplexed. He refused his food,—and even when better provisions were offered him, rejected them. “I might return the compliment, Courtlaw,” he answered, “by asking why the devil you come lurching on to the pavement like a drunken man.
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