She allowed herself to be ejected, therefore, and retired to the parlour after cleansing the blood from her hands and her own slight wound in the kitchen. A dull light shone through the open window blinds and softened the room with parchment yellowness. “It does not appear to me,” he said, stiffly, “to be an affair for jests. Wood, Sir," he added, with much emotion, "is one of the best of men, and would be the happiest, were it not that—" and he hesitated. He felt no pain from this cowardly kick. Meanwhile, Mr.
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