And I don't want anything of yours destroyed, Hoddy. Lucy clutched the pencil in defeat. Now, no more questions, or I shall be forced to leave the room. “What a gloomy person you are!” she murmured. Her cogitations were dissipated by a knock on the door. The fellow swore lustily, in a voice which Jack instantly recognised as that of Quilt Arnold, and vainly attempted to rise and draw his sword.
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