A militiaman came belting down the stairs, another leapt from outside the front door, and a third, stalwart and stolid, came in through the door that led to the rooms to the front of the house. "Go to the pump, Nab," he said, when this was done, "and fill a pail with water. Before he even glanced at the man on the floor he stepped over to her side and took the poker from her. The streets were deserted as they drove past familiar sites. "He is dying?" whispered Ruth. Besides, it was under false pretences. ” Annabel shrugged her shoulders.
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