But, by Jove! you are fierce! You are like those Roman women who carry stilettos in their hair. "Get in wid ye, ye villin!" And, despite his resistance, Shotbolt was thrust into the chair, which was instantly fastened upon him. But, urged by his wife's cries, who was more anxious for the preservation of her child's life than her own, he snatched up the infant, and made his escape from the back of the premises. The latter looked very pale, either from the effect of his wound, which was not yet entirely healed, or from suppressed emotion,—partly, perhaps, from both causes,—and wore his left arm in a sling. Somehow her walk home with him had been transmogrified into a melodramatic rejection, a slamming. Then she took her sister’s hand. ” “I promise,” he answered heartily.
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