I had to go at a moment’s notice. Raven locks fell to her shoulders from under the feathered beaver hat, and curled away down her back. CHAPTER XIX. "Ah! traitor!" cried Jack, pulling the trigger of his pistol. He raised her to a sitting position. Was that it? Had she clothed this unhappy young man with glamour? Or was it because he was so alone? She could not get through the husks to the kernel of what really actuated her.
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