His tie had demanded a struggle; he ought to have taken a clean one after his first failure. He urged his conductors to a quicker pace to get out of sight of the distressing spectacle, and even felt relieved when he was shut out from it and the execrations of the mob by the walls of the little prison. “Your little flag of pride must flutter down with the rest of them, Ann Veronica. He took her hand and looked into her eyes and spoke, divided against himself, in a voice that was forced and insincere. "What's the use of wasting a shot?" rejoined Jonathan, savagely. "I'll make myself intelligible before I've done," rejoined Wild.
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