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He frowned, twisted in his chair, and felt most uncomfortable. The staring and gaping audience greatly embarrassed him. "S-so you confess your guilt, eh?" he at length stammered. "Yes, sir; we do." "Are you not afraid of the consequences!" "What are they?" "W-well, I h-have to see about that. I'm not just sure yet. But why did you make the attack upon Mr. Handyman?"
Finally, after succeeding in turning the room topsy-turvy, and raising the most powerful doubts as to her own sanity, Miss Nan tottered out on to the landing and collapsed in a breathless heap on the lowest stair, while her sisters looked on askance from a discreet distance. "H-have some sal volatile! I'll get it from my room.
The face of a libidinous heathen idol, small eyed, with carven folds in the heavy jowls, and a consuming, pagan license in its expression. In the gutter just beyond the store Tansey saw a closed carriage standing with its back toward him and a motionless driver perched in his place. "Why, it's Tansey!" exclaimed Captain Peek. "How are you, Tansey? H-have a cigar, Tansey?"
"Unless the one you fought somehow got himself repaired." "I suspect that would h-have to be the case," stammered the Cowardly Lion. "I d-don't think there could be more than one of those creatures. I had assumed it was created by magic, sort of like a green elephant or something. But if it is alive again, it will probably find out who it was that defeated it before. It will be looking for me."
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