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His companion, a slight, stooped man, the sallowness of whose face was accentuated by a short black moustache, who had remained almost silent from the time he had entered the house, looked up at these words and smiled. "We owe that boy and this gentleman our lives," he said briefly.,
"Oh yes you will," spoke a voice, seemingly above their heads.,
"You heard?" Billy asked in awed tones.,
Billy sat silent, striving to keep back the grin that would come in spite of him. Wilson, on pretext of getting his pipe, got up and left the room.
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Billy, who was thinking hard, looked up at this. "But," he said sternly, "you said, only a few minutes ago, that you were done forever with whisky.",
"But to fall over the edge of a cliff is not an outrage," said Captain Acton.,
When they reached the meadow-path, with the outbuildings between them and the watchful eyes of his mother, Maurice removed the shawl from about his throat. "I won't be needin' it any more, now," he said in answer to his companion's frown of protest. "It makes me too warm, an' the doctor he said whatever I did I mustn't sweat." Mrs. Wilson allowed the explanation to stand.,
"Gee whitticker!" exclaimed Billy. "I wish now I hadn't promised you I'd come in. All right, lead on. Let's get the funeral over with."
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Developer Response,
Lucy heard a church bell strike: she started from a fit of abstraction, and, turning to move on, confronted an old man who was crossing the bridge. The face of this old man was pale and wrinkled; his hair was long and quite white. His nose streamed down his face in a thin, curling outline; his mouth when his lips were compressed might be expressed by a simple stroke of a pencil.[Pg 30] His eyes were deep-seated and extraordinarily luminous and swift in their motions, and his eyebrows, which were as white as his hair, were so thick and overhanging that they might have passed for a couple of white mice sleeping on his brow. His apparel had that dim and faded look which in fiction is associated with miserliness. His high and dingy white cravat and the tall build of his coat at the back of his head, so sloped his shoulders that they looked to make a line with his arms. He wore a faded red waistcoat which sank very low, and under it dangled a bunch of seals. His knee-breeches left painfully visible the pipe-stem shanks clothed in grey hose and terminating in large shoes, burdened with steel buckles.
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At the sound of his voice the old horse stood still. "Thomas," cried the rider sternly, "did I command you to halt?"
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"Is he tol'able well-to-do?" Mrs. Keeler asked.
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Halin-Chen Response,
>"But what do you fear, brother? What could have happened to her?"
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