Hers were less noble, yet stately. “Mr. " "God help me, what a muddle!" The cigar crumbled in Spurlock's hand. The struggles of the wounded man were desperate—so desperate, that in his agony he overset the table, and, in the confusion, tore off the cloth, and disclosed a face horribly mutilated, and streaming with blood. From this night I shall pursue a different course; from this night his ruin may be dated.
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