‘I’ll play you at your own game,’ he growled, holding the foreshortened foil in place with rigid control. Piercing through every crevice in the clothes, it, in some cases, tore them from the wearer's limbs, or from his grasp. Apologizing to Sir Rowland for this unpleasant reception, and swearing lustily at his servant for occasioning it by leaving the dogs at liberty, Jonathan ordered the man to light them to the audience-room.
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