He too was flushed and ruffled; one side of his collar had slipped from its stud and he held a hand to the corner of his jaw. "Hark 'ee, Ben," said the old sailor, knocking the ashes from his pipe upon the hob; "you may try, but dash my timbers if you'll ever cross the Thames to-night. ’ ‘Who’s bleeding to death?’ demanded Trodger. McClintock was in a gay mood at dinner that night; but he did not see fit to give these children the true reason.
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