Darrell stopped, and drew his sword. The walls rocked, the footrail of the bed wavered, and the girl's head had the nebulosity of a composite photograph. "What would you like most in this world?" he asked. "Why you pretended not to recognize the photograph of the young fellow you toted around these diggings all day yesterday. She had noticed a twenty year pattern emerging, and funny how opportunity seemed to strike just when she was getting truly anxious.
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