E. Gosse must now fight with his back to the altar, and a dais at his heels. " Animated by this trifling success, he proceeded with fresh ardour, and the rapidity of his progress was proclaimed by the heap of bricks, stones, and mortar which before long covered the floor. And thus it was that she came upon a book of Stevenson's verse—her first adventure into poetry. "What do you want?" he asked, in a gruff voice. He glanced at it, and saw the bloodied blade. "Good night, Master.
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