The slim knife was wrested from her grasp, and she was flung backwards, towards the bookcases. A boy like John’s dashing friend David Mitchell, someone who shares your love of academics. ’ ‘You, perhaps?’ she flung at him furiously, stepping out from behind the desk. "Thank you; but I've a pocket full of water-chestnuts. Now do not make me any more arguments, but tell me at once where that pig is gone.
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