" "Arrested!" exclaimed Trenchard, drawing his sword. Young, not much older than she was: she was twenty and he was possibly twenty-four. And you, Austin; and you Langley, I say the same thing to you. ‘What?’ Roding snapped, coming quickly to tower above the window seat. The poor boy, whose hands were pinioned behind him, looked very pale, but neither trembled, nor exhibited any other symptom of alarm. “You are really a good Samaritan,” she declared. “And all the rest of it perhaps is a song. Satisfied in this respect, he flung himself into a chair, for his iron frame seldom required the indulgence of a bed, and sought an hour's repose before he began the villanies of another day.
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