"Put down your burthen, monster!" shouted Wood, pointing an immense blunderbuss at him. ‘I only wish I might have won her confidence. "I do," replied Kneebone. Manning, in his entirely different dialect, indorsed her brother Roddy’s view of things. ‘How in God’s name did the wretched fellow get in then?’ ‘Dug a tunnel?’ suggested Gerald, halting next to a pair of French windows at the front. The wind blew in fitful gusts, and scattered the yellow leaves from the elms and horse-chestnuts.
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