CHAPTER V. ’ ‘Damn you, answer me!’ Her eyes flashed. Ramage, by a hundred skilful hints had led her to realize that the problem of her own life was inseparably associated with, and indeed only one special case of, the problems of any woman’s life, and that the problem of a woman’s life is love. " "You have extradition papers?" "What sort of a detective do you think I am?" countered O'Higgins. "You're wanted. “Accident! She shot me,” he muttered. Her figure, though slight, had all the fulness of health; and her complexion—still pale, but without its former sickly cast,—contrasted agreeably, by its extreme fairness, with the dark brows and darker lashes that shaded eyes which, if they had lost some of their original brilliancy, had gained infinitely more in the soft and chastened lustre that replaced it. Jonathan had to feel his way.
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