"Upon him!" "Yield, villain, or die!" shouted Thames, drawing his sword and springing towards him. Evidently in the flower of his age, he was scarcely less remarkable for symmetry of person than for comeliness of feature; and, though his attire was plain and unpretending, it was such as could be worn only by one belonging to the higher ranks of society. That’s about the beginning. Sensing his discomfort, she stood up and brushed lint off of the hem of her gray miniskirt.
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