"By my shalvation, boy," he added, fiercely, "if you don't take your hande off my peard, I'll sthrangle you. ‘Say it. It was still raining heavily, and profoundly dark. Indeed, it seemed inevitable that she must clear it up with his assistance, or not at all. Ruth crossed over to the dramatist of this tragicomedy and put a hand on his shoulder. "Put down your burthen, monster!" shouted Wood, pointing an immense blunderbuss at him.
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