"Farewell!" blubbered the executioner's wife, pressing his hand to her lips. . " "Zounds!" exclaimed Quilt, "did you kill him?" "Not quite," replied Terence, laughing; "but I brought him to his senses. Indeed, it seemed inevitable that she must clear it up with his assistance, or not at all. ‘You will release me at once, imbecile. Gin is the poor man's friend,—his sole set-off against the rich man's luxury. Remain at the door, Nab," he added, loitering for a moment behind the others, "and let no one in, or out. Voilà tout.
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