" "If this is the extent of it, Sir," returned the knight, ironically, "you may spare yourself further trouble. ‘Not kill me, I mean. "No bones broken, I hope," said Thames, laughing at Jack, who limped towards the bench, rubbing his shins as he went. How can he help you?” She threw such a look upon him that even he, Sir John Ferringhall, carpetmerchant, hide-bound Englishman, slow-witted, pompous, deliberate, felt his heart beat to music. The two young fools laughed until they cried.
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