"I have seen it," corrected Etwald, with professional calmness, "the poor fellow is dead, major--dead from blood-poisoning.",
"Dido!" cried Isabella. "You did not run away?" "No, missy. I tell de truth against dat man.",
All eyes were upon him as he crumpled his napkin into a hard ball and crushed it between his flexible fingers, while his face assumed an earnest and rather anxious expression..
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