"Sir Rowland," he added, savagely, and with somewhat of the look of a bull-dog before he flies at his foe, "if it were my pleasure to do so, I could crush you with a breath. Without turning or looking in his direction she leaned forwards, her head supported upon her fingers, her elbows upon her knees. " "It shall be, Sir," replied Ireton, bowing. Wood lifted up his hands in mute despair. ’ ‘Indeed, I’m beginning to think so,’ he said ruefully.
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