She was not squeamish—although the sight of the sergeant’s ominous preparations had severely tried her fortitude—but Kimble’s white face plagued her conscience. "So that was it? And what the devil are you doing here, moping alone on the beach? Why aren't you with her in this hour of bitterness?" "What can I do?" "You can go to her and take her in your arms. ” “But how did they prove it?” “By science,” said Miss Miniver, and hurried on, putting out a rhetorical hand that showed a slash of finger through its glove. Come along, master. Now we meet again, and you will scarcely look at me. Pah!’ She flounced about and, crossing to the bed, plonked down on it, pointedly averting her face and resting the large pistol in her lap.
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