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‘But I have the pistol,’ Gerald pointed out. ‘But you cannot expect that we will any of us remain altogether quiet,’ objected Melusine. Finally Lucy replied. After all, what did it matter?—it or anything else in the world? She was within reach of his arms, beautiful, compelling, herself as it seemed suddenly conscious of the light which was burning in his eyes. "My good friend, Owen Wood,—Heaven preserve him!—is still living.
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