Explore "Uncle Bernac" by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
I had little time given me to realise the extraordinary and humiliating / position in which I found myself, for I was lifted up by my ankles, as / if I were a fowl pulled off a perch, and jerked roughly down into the / room, my back striking upon the stone floor with a thud which shook the / breath from my body.
'Don't kill him yet, Toussac,' said a soft voice. 'Let us make sure who / he is first.'