"Upon him!" "Yield, villain, or die!" shouted Thames, drawing his sword and springing towards him. The man’s hand flashed out, but immediately afterwards an oath and a cry of pain broke from his lips. Things were thrown here and there, to be taken up, or again cast aside, as the whim arose; while the broken-backed chairs and crazy table bore the marks of many a conflict. Wood, you shan't lord it over me, I can promise you. Then she came a few steps to meet him. It feels like it. And you need not fear that I shall not give back the sword when I have finished using it.
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