I’ve got no feminine class feeling. Spurlock dove headlong at the other's legs, toppling the man. I shall like to think of it—whenever I feel dull. Before he could recover from the stunning effects of the blow, Wood possessed himself of the child: and, untying the noose which had been slipped round its throat, had the satisfaction of hearing it cry lustily. Consternation gripped him. It had gone with the rest.
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