That’s the fact of the matter. His face was white. “What makes you ask such a question, Vee?” she said. And how comes his cloak on this knave's shoulders?" "It is his cloak, of a surety," returned Rowland "Harkye, sirrah," continued he, haughtily interrogating Wood; "where is the person from whom you received this mantle?" "Throttling a man isn't the way to make him answer questions," replied the carpenter, doggedly. She gulped for air merely, for it had been difficult to breathe with his hand almost cutting off the supply to her lungs. In this way, more than a month passed over.
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