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The old priest, he gives a squawk, but I cracks him with a brass pot full of incense, which scatters and nigh chokes me, and I grabs the ear-rings and runs before they catches me, for all there's a million of 'em a-yammering at my heels. I never had a chance at the eyes worse luck! But I fared well, when all's said and done. It was a dark night, thank heaven, and the boat was handy.
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