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"Send George at once," said Captain Acton, "with the gig as fast as the mare can trot to Captain Weaver. He must call at his house first—the Paragon out of Lower Street. If not at home, he must find out where he is, and drive him back here with express orders from me that I must see him without loss of an instant's time." Billy stood up and reached for his cap. "If Anse comes over, you kin tell him where I've gone. I'll be back long afore dark." "There, there," cried the big-hearted woman, "of course it did.".

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The man was almost a caricature owing to malformation and other deformities. His red hair flamed; he was hunched, his arms were as long as a baboon's and seemed designed for climbing. His legs were arched and at the same time crooked at the knees, so that he appeared to be stooping whether he walked or stood, and to complete the suggestion of his origin he had a trick of scratching himself like a monkey. He was about twenty-five years of age. Whose son he was he could not have told. He preeminently belonged to the parish. "Wasn't there some talk a bit of a time past of him a-courting of her?" said Pledge. Billy turned slowly, his fingers fumbling with his cotton braces. He looked at the noxious dose in the tumbler, then at his mother's face. "All right," he said gently, "I'll take 'em, Ma; give 'em here." "'Billy,' Mr. Maddoc says to me, 'would you go on a piece an' leave me alone with this man. You see we've met before an' I want'a ask him some questions.'.