How she had hated it!… All these mumblings which were never explained, which carried no more sense to her brain than they would have carried to Old Morgan's swearing parrot. Wood required little pressing. " "Not at fisticuffs, perhaps," interrupted Jack, fiercely; "but I've my knife. ’ ‘Lord,’ Gerald murmured, awed more by the outspokenness of his hostess than by what she had said. Wild here presently, and I wouldn't for the world—Zounds!" he exclaimed, as the figure of the thief-taker appeared at the wicket, "here he is.
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