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’ ‘Comment? You wish to murder me?’ ‘No, I wish to beat you,’ he retorted. "Stay!" said Jonathan, aiding his descent; "you had better take my lantern. Marvel was almost dislodged from his seat on the coffin by a dead dog, which was hurled against him, and struck him in the face. During all this time, he had never quitted the iron bar, and he now grasped it with the firm determination of selling his life dearly, if he met with any opposition. All the rest of his existence was subordinate to this pursuit; he lived for it, worked for it, kept himself in training for it.
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