Suddenly she had become afraid. “You cannot seriously believe,” he said, “that at the present moment I care a snap of the fingers whether I have any dinner or not. " "Who are you?" ejaculated Trenchard, scarcely able to credit his senses. I fancy that this is a little more than playing at Bohemianism. She did not see the metal pole swing toward the back of her skull, nor did she feel her own blood spoiling her light hair after the dull crack of metal broke her flesh.
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