I don't trust you as far as I can throw you.
[T]he inmates of the coach, by numerous hard, painful joltings, and ponderous, dragging trundlings, are suddenly made sensible of some great change in the character of the road.
Together we hurried the books into the new white shelves which awaited them, the order in which they stood being of no matter so long as they were off the floor. Armful after armful was hastily stacked, the only pause being when (in the curious way in which these things happen) my own name suddenly caught the eye of the foreman. Did you write this one, sir? he asked. I admitted it.
Did you write this one, sir?
For an instant, the gaze of the horror-stricken multitude was concentred on the ghastly miracle […]
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