But, this sad affair disposed of, I will not rest till I have avenged my murdered parents. ” Brendon went very pale. It was a perfect windless spring day, a Sunday. She had carried a chair into the room veranda and had watched and listened until the night silences had lengthened and only occasionally she heard a voice or the rattle of rickshaw wheels in the courtyard. " "Not at fisticuffs, perhaps," interrupted Jack, fiercely; "but I've my knife. ” “Well, why not?” Lady Lescelles asked, smiling.
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