"Speak out—don't be alarmed," said Wood, in a kind and encouraging tone. The latter took from his pocket a small note-book and pencil. In one grave, mind. “To the best of my belief, I have not a single English acquaintance in the city. " "Wrong? What the devil could be wrong?" McClintock had demanded, irascibly. “You wish me to stay?” he asked, in a low tone. That there Frenchie didn’t look any too friendly to me. She had always had a wonderful ear for phrasing, even back in the days of the viol.
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