Whilst I, with this good smallsword for a lancet, Let thy starved spirit out (for blood thou hast none), And nail thee to the wall, where thou shalt look Like a dried beetle with a pin stuck through him. [Please select]
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Allen was a man of good height and broad shoulders, with piercing black eyes, reminding one more of the smallsword than aught else I can think of. [Please select]
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