‘Beg pardon, sir?’ asked the sergeant, evidently mystified. The poet's appearance altogether was highly prepossessing. The stipendiary would have done it all very differently. The boy was coming around. He’ll do. Locked! He sped out to the corridor and went swiftly into the next room. "Ye-ah," said O'Higgins, jovially. He felt the first sting of the whip.
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