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And, if I'd my own way, I'd drown 'em all like a litter o' puppies. There isn’t a husband breathing, Annabel, who wouldn’t have blessed that pistol in your hands, and prayed God that the bullet might go straight. " "Oh Heavens!" cried Jack, driven to his wits' end. I forget the particulars, but I know it was something very disagreeable. That'll tune me up. ’ ‘Not, I trust, Nicholas Charvill?’ ‘Hardly. You are the High Priestess of Life. Mr.
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