‘Do you think I would do to him as he made a threat to do to me? No. She did not see the metal pole swing toward the back of her skull, nor did she feel her own blood spoiling her light hair after the dull crack of metal broke her flesh. Since the discovery of them, she had been madly eager to read these typewritten tales. " "Not at fisticuffs, perhaps," interrupted Jack, fiercely; "but I've my knife.
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