Her mouth was an effective tourniquet. The man could put a bullet through her before she could hope to reach any one of them. She saw now that it was not a dissipated face; it was as smooth and unlined as polished marble, which at present it resembled. She was not afraid exactly, but there was that about her loneliness to-night she distrusted. '" "'This be the verse you grave for me: Here he lies where he longed to be; Home is the sailor, home from the sea.
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