“I find the two inseparable. He read "The Beachcombers" to McClintock that night after coffee; and when he had done, the old trader nodded. And if you mean to use that dagger to slip the lock, you’ll make enough noise to bring ten spies down on us. This—’ waving an imperious hand in a sweeping arc about the library ‘—is my house. ’ ‘What are you about now, child?’ demanded Martha apprehensively. Just speak the word," he added, drawing the knife significantly across his throat, "and I'll put it out of his power to do the same by your second.
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