’ ‘Tchah!’ He glared at her. “Where am I?” he muttered. ‘Idiot. ‘Have you any more pretty toys like that knife about you?’ ‘The girl’s a regular arsenal,’ Hilary snapped, giving up into his senior’s hand the nasty little weapon he had snatched. The comparisons upon which she could draw were few and confusingly new, mixed with reality and the loose artistic conceptions of heroes in fiction. Her likeness to her sister gave him at first almost a shock; a moment afterwards he was conscious of a wonderful sense of relief. Wood was so much exhausted that he was obliged to retire to his own room, where he continued for some hours overpowered by grief. " The walls appeared to rock; bulging shadows reached out; the candle flames became mocking eyes; and the blood drummed thunderously in Spurlock's ears. ” He replied lightly and stepped towards her. " And he pointed significantly to the hand.
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