‘I’ll play you at your own game,’ he growled, holding the foreshortened foil in place with rigid control. "Well, Sir?" gasped Sir Rowland. " "Then you are hurt," cried the carpenter in alarm. Wood?" "With pleasure," replied the woollen-draper. He halted,—looked fearfully around,—stopped again, and exclaimed aloud, "I don't like the job; and yet it must be done, or Mr. The red glare fell upon the slimy brick-work, and tinged the inky waters below.
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