"I can't hold it much longer—it'll break my wrist. The man looked as though he would have liked to deny it, but could not. “It was perhaps my fault. " So saying, he advanced towards the window, threw open the sash, and called out in the voice of Thames Darrell, "Who's there?" He was answered by a shot from a pistol. "You have," rejoined Jonathan, laying a forcible grasp on his shoulder. No more scuffling. There was also the daunting task of getting dressed. " "Suffer me to proceed," replied the stranger.
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