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pglaf. ‘But I have the pistol,’ Gerald pointed out. Books were always sliding and slipping, clumsy objects to hold. '—'No fear o' that,' thought I. "Eggs for me! You mistake, child. Don’t touch the handle, Annabel! Curse the thing, you’ve jammed it now. And yet, she would be easy prey in her present state of mind to any plausible, attractive scoundrel.
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