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St. Ives, Being the Adventures of a French Prisoner in England by Robert Louis Stevenson
page 71 of 373 (19%)

I could see it proceeded from a big man in a big nightcap, leaning
from a one-pair window; and as I was not yet abreast of his house,
I judged it was more wise to answer. This was not the first time I
had had to stake my fortunes on the goodness of my accent in a
foreign tongue; and I have always found the moment inspiriting, as
a gambler should. Pulling around me a sort of great-coat I had
made of my blanket, to cover my sulphur-coloured livery,--'A
friend!' said I.

'What like's all this collieshangie?' said he.

I had never heard of a collieshangie in my days, but with the
racket all about us in the city, I could have no doubt as to the
man's meaning.

'I do not know, sir, really,' said I; 'but I suppose some of the
prisoners will have escaped.'

'Bedamned!' says he.

'Oh, sir, they will be soon taken,' I replied: 'it has been found
in time. Good morning, sir!'

'Ye walk late, sir?' he added.

'Oh, surely not,' said I, with a laugh. 'Earlyish, if you like!'
which brought me finally beyond him, highly pleased with my
success.

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