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Manning relinquished his cup, and looked meaningly at Ann Veronica. "Not proud in the least, I declare. [Illustration: Distinctive Pictures Corporation. At sight of his wan features, she forgot the urgency of her need for a moment, and fell to her knees at his bedside, placing her hands on his slack ones where they lay on the soiled coverlet. And since then, he has openly avowed his determination of cutting his master's throat on the slightest inkling of treachery. ‘Well, water under the bridge is that, miss. A hand of iron fell upon the scowling young man’s shoulder. It was always jabbing him with white-hot barbs, waking or sleeping.
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