But the free arm of the stranger hit him a flail-like blow on the chest and sent him sprawling into the yielding sand. He looked just like John Wayne in a cowboy movie, his eyes narrow and squinting, except his hair was long, unruly, and jet black. “You did not wish to see him particularly this evening, then?” Anna hesitated. Wood. Here was one that subtly mocked her. I told her it was the end. "Troth, and so did you," returned the watchman; "but I couldn't belave it.
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