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She wanted to know. " "It's all over with him by this time, master," replied Ben, turning the head of his boat, and rowing swiftly towards the scene of strife; "but d—n him, he was the chap as hit poor Bill Thomson just now, and I don't much care if he should be food for fishes. It feels like it. Impressed with this idea, he paused for a moment to listen. Barleycorn had sent to the mat for the count of nine: unless the young fool's daddy had a bundle of coin. She had carried a chair into the room veranda and had watched and listened until the night silences had lengthened and only occasionally she heard a voice or the rattle of rickshaw wheels in the courtyard.
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