Also, you must send someone to fetch my horse—at least, it is not mine but I have borrowed it to come here—because it will be dark very soon and—’ ‘Woof! Hold it, hold it,’ begged the sergeant. The act was mechanical, a bit of sparring for time: his anger was searching about for a new vent. ’ ‘Comment? How will it serve you to kill me?’ ‘I do not need to kill you. \"Cool.
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