Stanley’s pace slackened. "'Faith, an' you may say that," returned a watchman, who was wiping a ruddy stream from his brow; "they've broken the paice, and our pates into the bargain. I could see his little animal brain churning away, inventing plans for me, formulating his revenge. I did not want anything made smooth and easy for me. ‘Give me an opportunity to open my mouth, and I will.
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