‘How so?’ he asked, and she noted that he allowed his pistol to dangle a little from his fingers. “You’ll get me to allude to it, but you’d have to torture me to admit it. "I don't understand you, gentlemen," stammered he, at length. "My coat!" he repeated, his glance burning into hers. She cried out with the pain of it. " "Aliva Trenchard!" exclaimed Mrs. She breathed deeply, and he breathed sympathetically.
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