“My word holds,” she said. “It’s magnificent!” He leaned back and regarded her with his head a little on one side. Take, if you please, your own pistol. Will you find your destiny, I wonder, or will you go through life like so many others—a wanderer, knocking ever at empty doors, homeless to the last? Oh, if one could but find the way to your heart. He next searched for his stockings and shoes, and when found, put them on. ’ ‘Oh, do they?’ Gerald said, sudden wrath kindling. Only her ungloved fingers, and the arms in their long tight sleeves as she held the heavy gun aloft, bore any sign of stiffness. ’ She raised the pistol. The great ordeal—that which she had most dreaded—had proved to be no ordeal at all. You may go back, Marthe. Well, while we were smoking our pipes, and quaffing our punch, Alsatia turns to me and says, 'Mint,' says he, 'you're well off here.
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