She knew that in her new rôle she was as likely as not to be a rank failure. It was his redemption, his ticket out of hell—that blue-serge coat. You're in a more serious scrape than you imagine. ‘Shocked you, have I? We weren’t mealy-mouthed in my day, my boy. ” She said. Mr. ’ ‘Comment? You wish to murder me?’ ‘No, I wish to beat you,’ he retorted. You know—I wish I could roll my little body up small and squeeze it into your hand and grip your fingers upon it. ‘Don’t fob me off, boy. The soi-disant Valade escapes and takes my proof, which I have broken on his head. So long as they're about, I'll always be rewriting them and wasting my time.
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