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She tossed her head, and, having no further words, moved toward the door. "Saved!" "Ay, ay, it's all bob, my covey! You're safe enough, that's certain!" responded the Minters, baying, yelping, leaping, and howling around him like a pack of hounds when the huntsman is beating cover; "but, where are the lurchers?" "Who?" asked Wood. "You will be wanting your broth, Hoddy," she said. CHAPTER XXV Spurlock pushed back his helmet and sat down in the white sand, buckling his knees and folding his arms around them—pondering. A jolly night we made of it, as you may suppose; for four such monarchs don't often come together. She still kicked herself for it. 'He's a good fellow, and 'twill all end well'. .
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