My mother, I'm sure, didn't intend to hurt your feelings. She rested for a half hour in heaven on earth, feeling herself drift in and out of sleep. " "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. You don’t deserve it, but he does. I've come to take you back home. Gerald tried it. Then the dagger’s point came in a whirling arc towards his face.
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