’ ‘Lord, man, it’s only a scratch!’ Suddenly Gerald snapped his fingers. It's all your fault, you shaking coward! and, but that I feel sure you'll swing for your carelessness, I'd throw you into the well, too. Oh, and only look at those stains,’ cried Miss Froxfield, gesturing at the blood on the ruffles to the sleeves of Melusine’s riding-habit, and on the chemise she wore under it. ‘We will converse in your own tongue,’ he said in French as he led her away. I know who hits hardest. Suddenly the Wastrel took hold of the edge and flung the table aside. But the free arm of the stranger hit him a flail-like blow on the chest and sent him sprawling into the yielding sand.
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