To be sure," he added, lowering his tone, "they wos little 'uns, and one on 'em was smothered—ough! ough!—how this cough chokes me!" Sheppard, meanwhile, whose hands were at liberty, managed to possess himself, unperceived, of the spike of a halbert, which was lying, apart from the pole, upon a bench near him. “I shan’t eat him. ‘Sit down, won’t you?’ He crossed back to Roding and said low-voiced. No hair to fall awry, no powder to displace, no ruffles to crush; men are lucky.
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