What is it you’re after? Money, I suppose. ” Her eyes were lit with humour. The folds of a thick muslin neckcloth in some degree protected him, but the gash was desperate. ‘Don’t fob me off, boy. “You cowards!” said Ann Veronica, “put her down!” and tore herself from a detaining hand and battered with her fists upon the big red ear and blue shoulder of the policeman who held the little old lady.
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