"Long life to the Marquis!" reiterated Terence; "he's an honour to ould Ireland!" "Didn't I tell you how it would be?" remarked Quilt. If she could have held it in, perhaps the Virgin Mary would have sent her a miracle as reward for her strength. Perhaps the old fool was not as fanciful as they had thought. And yet that could not be: it was a confession only in the event of his death. We propose to disregard all our ties, all our obligations, all the established prohibitions of society, and begin life together afresh. Will you not remember what has passed between us? I have the right to take my place by your side. The dream flowers and is harvested, and we are left by the wayside, having served our singular purpose in the scheme of progress: as the orange is tossed aside when sucked of its ruddy juice.
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