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| | Europe :: On a Murder Charge! |
 | | Having done with me she turned on Sweat, whose first comment was to repeat like a parrot, "I was in Dublin, it's in mi passport", before asking if he could have some food. |
 | | I saw my bike propped up against the building, but it was locked with the key I had given to Hughie, so we both walked into the middle of town. |
 | | We were soon disabused that the unfortunate incident would be supressed, when the following night at the 'Zirbel Stube', a favourite watering hole, Hughie came in to cries of "ye dirrty murrderin bastard," in what purported to be a Scots accent, from Ron, who was enjoying himself as usual. |
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