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"Aha! my lad!" he cried without appearing to regard the pain of the wound; "now I'll show you no quarter. . . The knowledge breathed into her heart a satisfying warmth. " CHAPTER XIX. "Bravo," cried Sheppard, examining its contents, which proved to be a file, a chisel, two or three gimblets, and a piercer. She dreaded living off the land again, like an animal, as she had done for dozens of years at a stretch. She saw herself begin a slow, sinuous dance: and stop suddenly in the middle of a figure, conscious that the dance was not impromptu, her own, but native—the same dance she had quitted but a few minutes gone.
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