His glance swept up again and found her staring at him with much of her usual defiance, if a touch less of her customary assurance. "Your servant, Sir Rowland," said the stranger, ducking his head, as he advanced. Pah!’ She flounced about and, crossing to the bed, plonked down on it, pointedly averting her face and resting the large pistol in her lap. Sheppard returned no answer. I desire, Sir, you'll recollect yourself. ” “Six pounds.
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