Turning, she heaved at the bottom door and slammed it in his face just as he came leaping forward to grab her. The dog was, in a sense, a gift of the gods. "Excuse me," he said, plunging his fork into a fowl, and transferring it to his plate. "No such thing," rejoined the jailer; "he's coming on business. The landing was defended by Quilt Arnold and the Jew.
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