The struggles of the wounded man were desperate—so desperate, that in his agony he overset the table, and, in the confusion, tore off the cloth, and disclosed a face horribly mutilated, and streaming with blood. The great ordeal—that which she had most dreaded—had proved to be no ordeal at all. “Ugh!” she said. While he was swinging in mid air, Thames regarded his uncle with a stern look, and cried in a menacing voice, "We shall meet again. You are a sisterless man; you have never heard the ordinary talk that goes on at a girls’ boarding-school. We looked upon you, my dear Sir John, with reverence, almost with awe. Constantly sick with the croup or diaper rash. He’s nice. Explain to Sir John our feelings. I came to see you on my own account.
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