His smile faded. Upon the pavement near the court lay the porter, who had been prostrated by a blow from the butt-end of a pistol. ” A momentary bitterness crept into Anna’s tone. ‘I ain’t done nothing wrong, I swear it. As he returned to the table, he put his finger to his nose; and, though he said nothing, he thought he had a much better chance of winning his wager.
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