‘A spitfire, ain’t she, sir?’ Roding ignored this. All the same, I wish I had that fellow by the throat! Just the virile, unregenerate man in me wishes that. I will no longer be a burthen to those upon whom I have no claim, but compassion. Forgetting the dark thoughts of his last brush with the girl, he dropped the dagger back in his pocket, quickened his pace, and went back into the house to look for his hostess. Manning; and added, “the twenty-ninth.
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