"That's for Winifred," vociferated the Amazon, bringing the cudgel heavily upon his shoulder. There was granite in her face and agate in her eyes. “I might return the compliment, Courtlaw,” he answered, “by asking why the devil you come lurching on to the pavement like a drunken man. Bon. “You, too,” he said abruptly. The figure of the girl upon it in plain black dress, standing with her hands behind her, was an undeniable and astonishing likeness of herself. E. ‘I’m damned if I see what you have to complain of,’ uttered Charvill, a faintly bewildered note underlying his irascibility.
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