Balanced on his nose were enormous tortoise-shell spectacles. ‘She? Sa femme? That is the game then? That she could dare to take my place, that salope. Instead her point disengaged, dropped, and then the sword came up again and banged, flatbladed, onto Gosse’s wrist with such force that his own blade dropped from his grasp. ” “No, that’s okay. Wood; "that's the surest way!" "No! no! give it me!" vociferated Wood, snatching the pistol, and rushing to the door, against which he placed his back. “I have answered all your questions,” she said.
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