On the cords being removed, he made a desperate spring at Wild, bore him to the ground, clutched at his throat, and would, infallibly, have strangled him, if the keepers had not all thrown themselves upon him, and by main force torn him off. Stanley, standing up with a sudden geniality and rubbing his hands together. “I have loved you,” he was saying, “ever since you sat on that gate and talked. All the rest is humbug and delicacy.
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