" "Will you be taking a pole-chair?" "If that's the racket. Earles,” Anna said. "Fire!—murder—thieves!—I've got one of 'em!" "Come along," cried Jack. ” He slipped off the horse. ’ His colour deepened. Why, then, did he touch it? As he climbed heavily into his chair, she was able to note the little beads of sweat under the cracked nether lip.
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