"'Sdeath! do you trifle with me, sirrah?" cried Rowland fiercely. It was long and narrow, with a ceiling supported by huge uncovered rafters, and so low as scarcely to allow a tall man like himself to stand erect beneath it. McClintock did not exaggerate his ability to read faces. And now she comprehended that the man (she had never known him by any name) knew she had surprised the look and had not resented it. I should know you—in Heaven or Hell.
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