"My horse is at the door, saddled, with pistols in the holsters,—mount him and fly. You shall know the truth. Treading with noiseless step over the soft mould, they soon reached the building. . . ‘Speak, then. “You were going to answer it?” “Certainly not!” she said deliberately. "Why do you laugh?" he asked. Lost ground must be regained. ’ ‘You are perfectly correct,’ agreed Gerald at once.
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