"By George!" he exclaimed. That boy," he added, looking at Thames, "has his eye upon us. "Is this Misther Wudd's, my pretty miss?" demanded the rough voice of the Irish watchman. "Ah!" he exclaimed, in a tone of anguish. “Don’t you have a wife? Where are your children?” She asked. "Too late, master," replied the landlord of the Trumpeter, in a surly tone, for he did not much like the appearance of his customer; "just shut up shop.
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