She held out her arm straight before her, and turned her hand this way and that. "I will," answered the prisoner. She was lovely, painted like the porcelain doll he had always wanted her to be. The conflict was of short duration; for Shotbolt was no match for his athletic antagonist. “Why not?” He asked. ’ The lashes fluttered demurely. Then before she could say a word to arrest him he was at her side.
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