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He could be back across the grass before the slow-foot Frenchman had sworn himself to the crest. Lie there out in the open, to be made prisoner, or potted at thirty yards? No, no, no! To retreat was shame: to stay death. But one course remained the riskiest, which, as he had heard the Parson say, in a tight place is often the safest. That course was forward.
Yea, the rocks of the Waste were thy Dawns upheaving, To let the days of the years go through; And thy Noons the tangled brake were cleaving The slow-foot seasons' deed to do. Then gaze adown on this gift of our giving, For the WOLF comes wending frith and ford, And the Folk fares forth from the dead to the living, For the love of the Lief by the light of the Sword.
Peggy Simms fled down the trail with a steel drill in either hand, straight across the beach toward Lund. The Finn turned on her with a snarl and a side-swipe of his knife, but she leaped aside, dodged the other slow-foot, and thrust a drill at Lund, who grasped it with a cry of exultation, swinging it over his head as if it had been a bamboo.
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