"Put it under my pillow," he said. "See the devil!—not I," cried Wood impatiently. To her satisfaction, the captain reddened a trifle. ‘We’ll cross that bridge if and when we come to it. You are not with the Kent militia, are you?’ ‘West Kent, yes. The doorbell tinkled and Michelle grabbed her purse and rushed down the creaky wooden stairs. And they’ll shut the gates presently.
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