“And now,” she said, splintering the surviving piece of coal into indignant flame-spurting fragments with one dexterous blow, “what am I to do? “I’m in a hole!—mess is a better word, expresses it better. CHAPTER XI. "Ah! traitor!" cried Jack, pulling the trigger of his pistol. “Nothing,” said Ann Veronica, and stared over her shoulder out of the window. The person caught hold of his arm, and, in spite of his efforts to disengage himself, detained him. There was nothing in the pockets of the coat.
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