“Oh, Lord!” she said, discovering what she was up to, and dropped lightly from the fence upon the turf and went on her way toward the crest. " Mr. She could almost smell her mother’s attar of white roses and lemon verbena with the memory of the story. “Go on!” she commanded. ‘As for your dagger—’ She held out her hand palm up, as if she expected him to give her the weapon. She looked at her for a moment fixedly.
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