. He was perched on the very edge of the leather seat of the coach, his threecornered hat twisting nervously in his hands, and from time to time he passed a tongue over dry lips. "Vell, vell," growled Sharples, after he had listened to the other's remonstrances, "it shall be done. Blood dripped down one side of her forehead. He would teach her all he knew of life so that if the Hand should ever reach his shoulder, she would be able to defend herself.
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