"Was I out of my head?" "Yes. A white apron was tied round his waist, and into the apron was thrust a short thick truncheon, which looked very much like a rolling-pin. ’ ‘You ain’t never!’ ‘Back to your post, Trodger,’ ordered the harassed captain. In the midst of this light stood a young woman. . He thrust the smaller weapon into a scabbard that hung from his belt. She felt herself getting into a corner. His only warning was a gleam of silver in the faint spill of light from the house above.
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