I asked him why, and he hadn’t a reason. “I wish,” she said, “that you would leave off looking at me as though I were something grisly. There was no point in rushing into the long walk home. Best assured of that. “I cannot conceive,” he said, “how any other occupation could ever have occurred to you. Gerald? But could he be here so quickly? She hastily dabbed at her eyes, thankful for the darkness that she saw had come on outside unnoticed, dimming the room. A brief description will suffice for them. To his consternation, she was holding an unwieldy, ugly-looking pistol, all wood and tarnished steel, with both hands about the butt. ’ ‘But Gérard knows. He removed his cocked hat and came towards her. —Give me the letters, my love," she added aloud, and in her most winning accents; "they're some wicked forgeries.
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