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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. She could feel her face turning beet red. “It has been proved,” said Miss Miniver, and added, “by American professors. " "Well said, Jack," cried Figg. " "I will be there," answered Trenchard, gloomily. I mean to have you! Don’t frown me off now. She rose at once with a little exclamation, half of surprise, half of pleasure. Telling the porter that he would attend to the house himself, he bade him go in search of Jack Sheppard. The fellow is little better than a lunatic.
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