’ ‘Who’s bleeding to death?’ demanded Trodger. His pale and boyish waist was nearly as slim as her own. He walked hastily to the side of the broad pavement and summoned a fiacre. McClintock's heart went out to Spurlock; he would always be the boy's friend, even though he had dragged this girl on to the rocks with him. She was standing there, smiling at the audience as at her friends. Kneebone! you would greatly oblige me by surrendering yourself.
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