His obtuse hands punched and jabbed at her uselessly, then he throttled her neck with the last of his strength. The picture might easily apply to The Tigress: outwardly disreputable, but richly and comfortably appointed below. But not finding it, he had again recourse to the bludgeon, and began beating the hand fixed on the upper rail, until, by smashing the fingers, he forced it to relinquish its hold. “Dear me! I wonder what I ought to do. " CHAPTER XIII.
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