" "Two can play at that game, my blood," replied Sheppard, rising, and putting himself into a posture of defence. ‘You didn’t understand it any better than I. ” “Yes. He was, however, instantly beaten back; and the fury of the mob was so great that it was with difficulty he could effect a retreat. Supposing the wire should break and her head tumble off her shoulders into the street? The whimsey caused another smile to ripple across her lips. “You call yourself an artist— but you have no temperament. Wily little devil she is.
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