IX. ” “Do you?” “We were great friends at school. No, you don’t!” Ennison had moved stealthily a little nearer to him, and looked suddenly into the dark muzzle of the revolver. He was nearly wincing. There was a wild light in her eye, and her straight hair was out demonstrating and suffragetting upon some independent notions of its own. “Vee,” she said, “come home. "Dying, Sir Rowland. All this was the work of a minute.
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