Yet her embarrassment was only a passing thing. "The poor things!" The manager laughed. Quarter-staves, bludgeons, brown-bills, lanterns, swords, and sconces were alike shivered; and, to judge from the sullied state of their habiliments, the claret must have been tapped pretty freely. "Now, Jack," cried Thames, warmly grasping Sheppard's hand, "you are my friend again.
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