" "Ay, but he will. But, bloodan'-'ouns! man, if ould Nick himself were to hit me a blow, I'd be afther givin' him another. It was not as bad a wound as she had at first thought, and the blood was only oozing now. “Let me get you some water, Annabel. ’ ‘Success?’ Her eyes narrowed. He carried a cane and a silk hat with a mourning-band in one gray-gloved hand; his frock-coat and trousers were admirable; his handsome face, his black mustache, his prominent brow conveyed an eager solicitude. "So much the worse," replied Jonathan, rising and taking a turn, as if uncertain what to do.
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