Wood rest till he brought the villains to justice. ‘You have every right to be angry with me. " Silence. “I suppose all life is an affair of chances. " He did not reply. Fortescue rambled round the garden with soft, propitiatory steps, the Corinthian nose upraised and his hands behind his back, pausing to look long and hard at the fruit-trees against the wall. I've come all these miles for this young fellow; but I don't cotton to the idea of lallygagging four weeks in this burg. " "Not in the least," replied Shotbolt, creeping beneath the table; "there's my staff. . This smile was more harrowing even than her former rigid look. Outside stood a stocky, combat boot-clad girl of seventeen with a teased mass of spiky bottle-black hair.
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