" And, with the uninjured hand he drew a pistol, which he fired, but without effect, at Jack. " Neither man spoke. “All right?” he asked. A jar of pink roses upon a tiny table seemed to gain an extra delicacy of colour from the sombre curtains behind. Instinctively she imitated this action, chilled and a little frightened at the expression of terror that confronted her. You know—I worship you. I don’t think you understand.
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