‘For God’s sake, let go my hand,’ he begged. On the floor, underneath the sixth row desks, was an ashtray with a small black dot of blood on its blunt round corner. The knight stood upon his defence; but he would unquestionably have been torn in pieces by the savage hounds, if a shower of oaths, seconded by a vigorous application of kicks and blows from their master, had not driven them growling off.
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