She could hear the raucous laughter and bad music below. “Muck-headed moral ass! I ought to have done anything. " "What has he done?" "What did he have to drink over here last night?" "Not even water. " "Come, jump up," cried Blueskin, mounting his steed, "and I'll soon wisk you to town. If he could keep it up—style and calibre of imagination—within a year the name of Taber would become widely known. Not wisely but too well.
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