"Not my king's," returned Wood. The man’s passion became almost unbearable at the thought of losing her. ’ He took a pace forward, seizing the gun with one hand, while the other locked her arm so that he could forcibly wrest the weapon from her. "Good-bye, young man; and good luck. Like stealing. But at this point he was still subservient, still outwardly humble, in spite of the blackhearted villainy that was even then burgeoning in his breast.
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