Wood, meanwhile, had summoned his men-servants, and having armed them with such weapons as could be found, they proceeded to the garden, where the first object they encountered was Thames Darrell, extended on the ground, and weltering in his blood. All sorts of battered tramps, junks and riff-raff of the seas trailed in and out. “Well?” she said, sitting down again. “Oh yes,” said Miss Klegg; “I thought every one knew. “Have you no understanding of your own advanced history classes? You want to look like a brainwashed Nazi anti-Semite?” Lucy became angry, her nostrils flaring. Don’t touch the handle, Annabel! Curse the thing, you’ve jammed it now. “Quite right,” she said.
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