His obtuse hands punched and jabbed at her uselessly, then he throttled her neck with the last of his strength. Captain Roding strode into the parlour. He had the same dark eyes, though lighted by a fierce flame; the same sallow complexion; the same tall, thin figure, and majestic demeanour; the same proud cast of features. It was a serene and charming evening, and twilight was gently stealing over the face of the country. She—She can snub him.
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