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The wounded man had descended the bridge, and dashed himself against the door beyond it; but, finding it impossible to force his way further, he turned to confront his assailants. " The Wastrel laughed. I'll put a brace of dogs on your track, who'll soon hunt you down. And by degrees, perhaps, that maiden distrust of yours that makes you shrink from my kisses, will vanish. ” “I wasn’t jesting,” said Capes, abruptly. No good at all.
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