"But vere'll be the use o' vinnin'? you von't live to pay me. A certain irritation crept into his manner as he did so. Swinging her arm in an arc, she let go of the foil and it flew across the chapel towards the main door, crashing down between the pews, and clattering onto the floor. He looked at his port wine as though that tawny ruby contained the solution of the matter.
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