"Who's there?" cried Rachel. Outside stood a stocky, combat boot-clad girl of seventeen with a teased mass of spiky bottle-black hair. It is possible she is dangerous, and the police are looking into several cold murder cases where she may have been involved. This was David Courtlaw, whose ways, too, had never been very different from the ways of other men as regards her sex. “I am giving my understudy a chance. "Hell-hounds!" he cried; "release me!" At the same moment, Quilt Arnold rushed forward with such haste, that, stumbling over William Morgan, he precipitated him into the grave.
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