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The Refugees by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle
page 73 of 474 (15%)
fell strangely upon the ears of the crowd beneath.

"Yes, sacred name of God, yes!"

"Order off your men, then."

"Away, you dolts, you imbeciles! Do you wish to see me dashed to
pieces? Away, I say! Off with you!"

"That is better," said the youth, when the soldiers had vanished from
the window. He gave a tug at the dragoon's leg as he spoke, which
jerked him up so far that he could twist round and catch hold of the
lower edge of the balcony. "How do you find yourself now?" he asked.

"Hold me, for heaven's sake, hold me!"

"I have you quite secure."

"Then pull me up!"

"Not so fast, captain. You can talk very well where you are."

"Let me up, sir, let me up!"

"All in good time. I fear that it is inconvenient to you to talk with
your heels in the air."

"Ah, you would murder me!"

"On the contrary, I am going to pull you up."
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