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Updated: June 17, 2025
He had entered by the door behind the bar into Barbazon's office. "When I was in India," Marchand cried, "I found a snake in the bed. I killed it before it stung me. There's a snake in the bed of Manitou what are you going to do with it?" The men swayed, murmured, and shrill shouts of "Marchand! Marchand! Marchand!" went up. The crowd heaved upon Ingolby.
He had entered by the door behind the bar into Barbazon's office. "When I was in India," Marchand cried, "I found a snake in the bed. I killed it before it stung me. There's a snake in the bed of Manitou what are you going to do with it?" The men swayed, murmured, and shrill shouts of "Marchand! Marchand! Marchand !" went up. The crowd heaved upon Ingolby.
Barbazon's muddy face got paler, but his eyes sharpened, and he leaned over the bar-counter, and said with a snarl: "Go to hell, and say what you like; and then I'll have something to say about something else, m'sieu'."
When Ingolby walked past Barbazon's Tavern arm in arm with Monseigneur Lourde, to the tiny house where the good priest lived, the old man's face beaming with gratitude, and with a piety which was his very life, the jubilant crowd followed them to the very door.
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