"One of us has got to die," he panted. We’ve done nothing to deserve it. Was the man debating whether or no to tell the truth? A grimace played about Valade’s mouth and the general waited, maintaining his own rigid pose. I’ve muddled all this business. "But I dread the effect your departure may have upon your poor mother. She wrenched her head away from his grip and got her arm between his chest and hers. “Absolutely platonically,” she said. " "A short man, isn't he, about your height, Sir,—with a yellow beard, and a face as sly as a fox's?" "Hem!" replied Wood, coughing slightly to conceal a smile; "the description's not amiss.
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