“You have dyed your hair and darkened your eyebrows. The blow was scarcely dealt, when, with a bound like that of a tiger, Blueskin sprang upon him. ‘Silence,’ he warned again, with a prod of the dagger at her heart. The smell that emanated from the opening was abominable. "Come away!" he cried, with the roar of a demon. So, here he was, on the last lap of middle age, in China, having missed all the thrills in life except one—the war against Death. By George, I forgot! McClintock said there was a typewriter in the office and that I could have it. Such was the condition of his mind that the danger exhilarated rather than depressed him.
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