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Wood glanced at the hardy offender, and not liking the expression of his countenance, thought it advisable to postpone the execution of his threats to a more favourable opportunity. With this view he struck off into a narrow street on the left, and soon entered a small alehouse, over the door of which hung the sign of the "Welsh Trumpeter. She had flung away from her father’s support with the finest assumption of personal independence. Mere formality. Then he looked towards his granddaughter once more, who had flounced away to the window at her greataunt’s interruption. " "I had to. Do not underestimate my power. I say again, grace à vous.
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