He became ugly and monstrous, dunning her, threatening her, assailing her. "Where are you?" "Here," replied Mrs. “My friends,” she said, “my dear friends, I am going to make the same answer to all of you—and that is perhaps you will say no answer at all. I can wield a quarterstaff as well as a prize-fighter, and have beaten Figg himself at the broadsword. Old Bedlam 291 IX.
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