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Now then," he added more calmly, "I am ready to die. The love-songs of all the ages were singing in her blood, the scent of night stock from the garden filled the air, and the moths that beat upon the closed frames of the window next the lamp set her mind dreaming of kisses in the dusk. I can wield a quarterstaff as well as a prize-fighter, and have beaten Figg himself at the broadsword. "Shotbolt! by—" cried Austin, as the captive was dragged forth. But I shan't let him off thus.
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