When he came to a certain sentence in Brendon’s letter he stopped short and looked up at her. Quarter-staves, bludgeons, brown-bills, lanterns, swords, and sconces were alike shivered; and, to judge from the sullied state of their habiliments, the claret must have been tapped pretty freely. An audible crack sounded in the kitchen and Mark slumped backwards, unconscious. They were only passers-by. She was marvellously pretty, but he was not quite sure—yet—that it was advisable for him to sit with her in so public a place. ’ Colour suffused the man’s face.
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