"Vell," he growled, addressing Quilt, "you know who's here, I suppose?" "To be sure I do," replied Quilt; "my noble friend, the Marquis of Slaughterford. ’ ‘Well, don’t bite my head off,’ protested Mrs Sindlesham, clearly amused. “Holy shit!” Giggling and snickering was amplified by asbestos tiles and reverberated by metal desks. She hated to leave; for this hour would be the most interesting. She bent down.
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