She pulled her chair with a mild creak and marched towards the stair. " "Hold your tongue, sirrah," rejoined Shotbolt, not over-pleased by the remark, "and mind what I tell you. Mr. Will you leave us for a few minutes?" "You are not going to be harsh?" "I wish to talk about the future. She withdrew her head with a little moan, and resumed her flight. " "Not quite," replied the manager.
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