"Let us in," said the Master, rapping his truncheon authoritatively against the boards, "or we'll force an entrance. ‘Did I say so? When last heard from you were claiming some good English name. For a long time to come that would naturally be the theme of any story he undertook to write. Then the long lashes sank demurely over them. Why is the door fastened? Open it directly!" "Are you alone?" asked Jack, mimicking the voice of Kneebone. Here was no crooked soul; a little weak perhaps, impulsive beyond common, but fundamentally honest. “Election be hanged!” he exclaimed. Do you remember when we went right away, Nigel, and forgot everything? We went down the river past Veraz, and the larks were singing all over those deep brown fields, and the river further on wound its way like a coil of silver across the rich meadowland, and along the hillside vineyards.
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