" "Write him," urged Spurlock, finding speech. Her gaze flickered down to his pistol. A silence ensued. "Couldn't you speak to him?" "What?—and be insulted for my trouble? No, thank you!" "That is it. ‘Your niece, ma’am. ’ But I made sure it was you. " "Then this is not my child?" exclaimed she, with increased astonishment.
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