“Because I hate you!” She spat. "Why does she weep?" Ruth wanted to know. “Stop! Don’t put your face there. And they’ll shut the gates presently. Darell's peculiar bent of mind was exemplified in a rusty broadsword, a tall grenadier's cap, a musket without lock or ramrod, a belt and cartouch-box, with other matters evincing a decided military taste. They will find me dead, yes. ’ Then he bowed, raising his hat in salute and, crossing to the coach, spoke briefly to its driver and leapt into it without looking back. Pull over there. To perdition with them all.
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