She was not squeamish—although the sight of the sergeant’s ominous preparations had severely tried her fortitude—but Kimble’s white face plagued her conscience. “It is very doubtful,” he said. I went at last when I had barely a shilling in my purse to a dramatic agent. She thought of an old abandoned barn that she could inhabit further downriver, but shrugged off the idea in disdain. “I’ve fallen in love. ‘Civilian peace-keeping forces, you know. She gained her room, and slammed her door and locked it as though she feared violence and pursuit.
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