This is simply a chapter of coincidences. “One can’t tell. " "What!" she exclaimed, staring eagerly in his face. The work of plunder over, that of destruction commenced. The door closed softly upon her. And turning again, as if the emotions she had churned up kept her on the move, she paced back to the mantel and there stopped, staring at her own reflection in the tarnished mirror. “It’s about forty pounds. The man could put a bullet through her before she could hope to reach any one of them.
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