“I’d rather go as a chorus-girl,” she said. "I'll not believe it. “Read this, John. Drink the toast, Jack. ‘Now what?’ The girl’s voice was shaking, and there were, he saw now, angry tears in her eyes. The white haze of poison clouded her eyes. “Slavery! Downtroddenness! When I think of it I feel all over boot marks— men’s boots. He took his seat at the table, but leaned forward to address her. . It was an uproarious affair, for Rollo now knew that he had been grieviously betrayed: they were trying to kill him in a new way. Gosse had moved forward, his pistol arm out straight, his aim true, the gun cocked. Brendon was silent. "Go to the pump, Nab," he said, when this was done, "and fill a pail with water.
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