The door crashed back against the wall inside and both men hurtled into the room, weapons at the ready—and stopped dead. He read but little, and that chiefly healthy light fiction with chromatic titles, The Red Sword, The Black Helmet, The Purple Robe, also in order “to distract his mind. It was one of those old sliding trap affairs, narrow and steep of descent. Voilà tout. "Mercy!" screamed Mrs.
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