“You see,” he said, “you are like an inaccessible gold-mine in all this sort of matter. " "You delight me with the intelligence," said the stranger, entirely recovering his cheerfulness of look. Snatching-up his pistols, he rushed to the door, but to his horror found it fastened. She was always breaking rules, whispering asides, intimating signals. “No man can realize,” she said, “what that pit can be. ‘At me,’ she uttered, holding her own pistol high and aiming it steadily. He laughed. "Is it a bargain?" "Take half of my estate—take all—my life, if you will—I am weary of it!" cried Trenchard passionately. There were dark rims under her eyes, soft now with unshed tears. After all, where prayer fails, a pistol is bound to succeed. Only I wish—I wish to-day I was a thousand times, ten thousand times more beautiful.
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