" "Not a farthing more, I assure you," rejoined Ireton, pettishly; "we're all on the square here. ” “I sent a telegram to say I was all right. Spurlock, filled with self-mockery, sat in a chair on the west veranda. The recollection of the forlorn and loveless years—stirred into consciousness by the unexpected confrontation—bent her as the high wind bends the water-reed. It was the grand nursery of vice. ” “Oh, I might,” he answered, “have gone further still. " "In that case I arrest you, and your confederate, Joseph Blake, alias Blueskin, on a charge of felony," returned Wood, brandishing his staff; "resist my authority, if you dare.
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