The fellow swore lustily, in a voice which Jack instantly recognised as that of Quilt Arnold, and vainly attempted to rise and draw his sword. ” And thus it was that as Ann Veronica neared the gates of home, she said to herself: “I’ll have it out with him somehow. And here he was, but a hundred yards away, this wastrel who trailed his genius through the mud. She had a horrible glimpse of the once nice little old lady being also borne stationward, still faintly battling and very muddy—one lock of grayish hair straggling over her neck, her face scared, white, but triumphant. ‘It had better not be, by God,’ had barked Captain Hilary Roding. "Begone, wretch!" cried the mother, stung beyond endurance by his taunts; "or I will drive you hence with my curses.
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