He seemed to be labouring under some great excitement. Then he sensed the trap. Mirages, over which he was constantly throwing bridges which were wasted efforts, since invariably they spanned solid ground. It reverberated in the silence. ‘Been led up the garden path by that confounded rapscallion. Fortunately, ever since Wild's late murderous attack, the household has all been well armed. It had been a trying day.
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