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He
whispered in her ear. I’ve never had a homemade
Thanksgiving meal like that. Only sat, staring at him, a puzzled look
in her face. Once before—but that had been different. At times he was brilliant and masterful, talked round and over
every one, and would have been domineering if he had not been extraordinarily
kindly; at times he was almost monosyllabic, and defeated Miss Garvice’s most
skilful attempts to draw him out. She threw out a hand to stop
herself from cannoning into them and, losing balance, tripped over her own
petticoats and fell to the carpeted floor, her hat falling off as she did so. "Fifty now and fifty when I return. And thus he was once more free, having effected one of the most wonderful
escapes ever planned or accomplished. She tried surreptitiously to
reach her own dagger, in its cunning hiding place in her petticoat.
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This video was uploaded to damaulifm.org on 20-07-2024 10:04:07