Then a bit of colour flowed into his sunken white cheeks. " "There it is;" replied the other, tossing him the glove. "See the devil!—not I," cried Wood impatiently. “Ah, Vee,” he said, “that’s better! and kissed her back rather clumsily. I am the cause of his ill-usage. Hurry. ‘I’ll play you at your own game,’ he growled, holding the foreshortened foil in place with rigid control.
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