Austin could scarcely credit his senses when he beheld him. ‘What happened, ma’am?’ enquired Gerald gently. Take, if you please, your own pistol. "Write as I dictate," he cried, placing a pen in the jailer's hand and a pistol to his ear. She closed her eyes and felt again an echo of the swamping warmth that had attacked her when his lips met hers. With a well-simulated unconcern and a heightened color she finished her breakfast.
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