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Frank drew his pistol; but Muriel clung to his arm and cried: "Oh, spare the poor wretch!" Tashi had no scruples, but his magazine was empty and he searched in vain for a cartridge. But Yuan Shi Hung's time had come. Badshah's trunk shot out and caught the climber's ankle. The Chinaman was plucked from the face of the cliff and hurled to the ground.
She might have been his daughter Una with that little fixed star of feeling set like a shining pebble now in her right, fascinated eye, reflected, exaggerated in the glazed cast of pain in the stone-gray eye of the man beneath her, whose climber's suit of homespun was daubed with mountain mud, whose tweed cap was the brooklet's toy. He had been trying to scoop up water in it.
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