"Come out!" roared Quilt, looking into the aperture. . “I don’t know. "We're all damaged—we've all got broken pates," cried a dozen voices. “Well, I do. Before he could recover from the stunning effects of the blow, Wood possessed himself of the child: and, untying the noose which had been slipped round its throat, had the satisfaction of hearing it cry lustily. “It will spoil your life. I will write to your major, and you will send the letter very quickly. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.
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