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Yet she could not bring herself to hate the girl, or even Gianfrancesco, the one who would have sent her to her death more than once. And how comes his cloak on this knave's shoulders?" "It is his cloak, of a surety," returned Rowland "Harkye, sirrah," continued he, haughtily interrogating Wood; "where is the person from whom you received this mantle?" "Throttling a man isn't the way to make him answer questions," replied the carpenter, doggedly. Nevertheless she withdrew her hand. She had gained respect all about town with news of her fine marriage, and her reputation as a beauty was expanding. "Why didn't you come out when I called you, you young dog?" cried Quilt in a savage tone. “You’re not a virgin, are you?” It was as much an accusation as a question.
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