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Weyman, Stanley John, 1855-1928

"The House of the Wolf; a romance"


"Here is a cock of a fine hackle!" And so on, and so forth,
while he turned grinning to his companions, looking for their
applause.
I was itching to chastise him, and yet hesitating, lest the thing
should have its serious side, when a new actor appeared. "Shame,
you brutes!" cried a shrill voice above us in the clouds it
seemed. I looked up, and saw two girls, coarse and handsome,
standing at a window over the stable, a light between them. "For
shame! Don't you see that they are mere children? Let them be,"
cried one.
The men laughed louder than ever; and for me, I could not stand
by and be called a child. "Come here," I said, beckoning to the
man in the doorway. "Come here, you rascal, and I will give you
the thrashing you deserve for speaking to a gentleman!"
He lounged forward, a heavy fellow, taller than myself and six
inches wider at the shoulders. My heart failed me a little as I
measured him. But the thing had to be done. If I was slight, I
was wiry as a hound, and in the excitement had forgotten my
fatigue.


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