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She stood there with white set face and nervously clenched fingers. “I am. ” With a little crash the pistol fell from her shaking fingers. ‘But I have the pistol,’ Gerald pointed out. Raven locks fell to her shoulders from under the feathered beaver hat, and curled away down her back. She had something of the feeling a Hindoo must experience who has been into surroundings or touched something that offends his caste. Lose no time. ‘I cannot possibly shoot a lady, you know. And she defies me.
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