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” “Good God!” said Mr. Help—should she need it—from the natives was out of the question. Not even for Ruth could he do such a beastly thing. ” He said mischievously. “You see,” she said, very gently, “I AM going. He tries hard to conceal it, but he cannot. I can wield a quarterstaff as well as a prize-fighter, and have beaten Figg himself at the broadsword. ” “I feel so guilty. Marvel, who had been a little discomposed by the treatment he had experienced on Holborn Hill, very composedly filled and lighted his pipe. "Shall I fetch the light, Captain?" whispered Blueskin.
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