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Mike was drinking a cup of black coffee. “I repeat, gentlemen,” he said, in an ominously low tone, “what of it?” Drummond shrugged his shoulders. "You will spare the officers a labour then," rejoined Jonathan. Montague Hill?” Annabel put her hand suddenly to her throat and steadied herself with the back of a chair. "Beat down their blades," cried the Master; "no bloodshed. So says your capitaine. " And, with a few magical touches, he stamped the fleeting expression on the canvass.
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