He swore that I was his wife, and—I shot him, Nigel, as his arms were closing around me. " "A short man, isn't he, about your height, Sir,—with a yellow beard, and a face as sly as a fox's?" "Hem!" replied Wood, coughing slightly to conceal a smile; "the description's not amiss. “Is it your maid?” he asked. I almost died from this flu.
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