Alarmed by the noise of the scuffle, Quilt and Sharples rushed to the assistance of their comrade. Where else could she go?’ ‘And there aren’t too many of them around,’ agreed Hilary on a gloomy note. He thought of his severe attitude towards the girl who was rightly and with contempt refusing his measured help. "No, Rollo; not this afternoon. After all, the Wastrel was in luck: he was alone. She emerged with a white face and wide-open eyes upon a little, red-lit landing.
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