He growled in his throat and, thrusting his coat open, revealed his own buckled sword-belt. "I knew his poor mother, and for her sake I'll not see this done," cried John Dump. But—It’s just this: who was to be hurt?” “I wish no one had to be hurt,” said Ann Veronica. He sat back in an easy chair with a hand upon each of the elbows, and looked steadfastly into the fire. Wood required little pressing. "Bring him back with you.
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