This—’ waving an imperious hand in a sweeping arc about the library ‘—is my house. "What is it?" "The night," she answered. All at once they came to the top, the faded blue sky overhead, and whichever way he looked, the horizon, the great rocking circle which hemmed them in. “Good, I’m so glad, Lucy. "I shall be back presently," replied Thames, evasively. Outside stood a stocky, combat boot-clad girl of seventeen with a teased mass of spiky bottle-black hair. Their conversation was conducted in the flash language, and, though unintelligible to Wood, was easily comprehended by this companion, who learnt, to her dismay, that the wounded man had received his hurt from her son, whose courage and dexterity formed the present subject of their discourse.
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