‘What the devil do you think you’re doing?’ protested Hilary angrily. She did not see the metal pole swing toward the back of her skull, nor did she feel her own blood spoiling her light hair after the dull crack of metal broke her flesh. But I've not promised to stand by him yet; nor will I, unless he turns out an honest lad,—mind that. " "What is it?" "That you give 'em to me.
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