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"His life—or yours?" "No one shall harm you more, my dear," cried Lady Trafford. A hazy face appeared through the fog of sleep, pale and thin and looming. For a moment or two Gerald stood in the total silence of amazement, his pistol up and pointing, aware that Hilary was likewise stunned, standing with halfdrawn sword. Then I tucked it nice and snug under the saddle-bag. I’ve wanted you—always.
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