He’d borne mention of the woman’s name. But not finding it, he had again recourse to the bludgeon, and began beating the hand fixed on the upper rail, until, by smashing the fingers, he forced it to relinquish its hold. Some one may observe us. He thrust the smaller weapon into a scabbard that hung from his belt. His voice had changed, the joy had gone out of it; and she understood that something from the past had rolled up to spoil this hour. E.
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