Something like a snarl crossed his face, and ignoring the pistol, he moved forward, seizing her shoulders. But I've not promised to stand by him yet; nor will I, unless he turns out an honest lad,—mind that. ‘Well?’ demanded Miss Froxfield, accepting a glass of lemonade proffered by a passing lackey. "Not a syllable," replied Wild. \"Thanks for coming. ” She changed the subject abruptly.
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