The fellow swore lustily, in a voice which Jack instantly recognised as that of Quilt Arnold, and vainly attempted to rise and draw his sword. “I’m so glad my Mom’s letting me go out tonight. No more did she offer her forehead for the good-night kiss. ’ ‘Well, I am glad he did not,’ intervened Lucilla, forestalling another withering comment from the captain. I made the pies.
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