" "Only as a brother?" persisted Kneebone. ’ ‘Well, don’t blame me if you get your head blown off. He returned her impressive greeting almost mechanically. To his consternation, she was holding an unwieldy, ugly-looking pistol, all wood and tarnished steel, with both hands about the butt. Grace, confidence, the power of movement even, seemed gone from her. Hitherto it had been qualified by her conception of all life as a compromise, by her new effort to be unexacting of life.
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