"Why, hello, Ah Cum! What's the trouble?" Ah Cum took his hands from his sleeves. Here were imprisoned the fines; and, "perhaps," adds the before-cited authority, "if he behaved himself, an outlawed person might creep in among them. “That’s not working so well for you, is it?” She looked at him sheepishly, bringing a Kleenex out of her pocket to wipe away the excess. The time was the 26th of November, 1703: the place, the Mint in Southwark. Drink this!” He poured out a glass of wine with a firm hand, and held it to her lips. “I don’t see what else I could have said,” he remarked. It'll be your turn to save mine next. " It was not uttered interrogatively; rather as though Ah Cum did not like the significance of the word and was turning it over and about in speculation.
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