"Then, by Heaven! you are a dead man!" replied Jack, cocking a pistol, and pointing it deliberately at his head. ‘Who kills who?’ ‘Rot in hell,’ he snarled, panting, and managed to push himself forward and leap off the dais, running for the safety of the far aisle by the wall. Daughters were not like sons. " In the living room Spurlock's glance was constantly drawn toward Ruth; but in fear that she might sense something wrong, he walked over to the piano and struck a few chords.
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