She had in her suitcase a small scrapbook, only a few pages, what little information she had gathered on him through the years. . The colour slowly left her cheeks, the lines of her mouth hardened. ‘Coward,’ she threw at him, brandishing the sword. He was as hard as a rock. There has never been a white woman at McClintock's. "Well, my pretty dears," he added, "—to see your husband, eh? You must make the most of your time. CHAPTER XXVII His idea, cleverly planned, was to shatter her resistance, to confound her suddenly by striking her mind with words which would rob her coherent thought.
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