This "fatal retreat for the unfortunate brave" was marked by a low wooden railing, within which stood the triple tree. "Von't you hear me?—ough! ough!" demanded Sharples, after a pause. She was quite oblivious to the sensation she had created. "I suppose I must have been senseless for some time; for, on coming to myself, I found this gash in my head, and the ground covered with blood. He stuck to the shop as long as it was necessary, and longer, in my opinion.
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