He drew both his pistols, and prepared for a desperate encounter. You don't want me to spoil the story, do you?" "No. The material cares of life hang about your neck like a millstone. “You know of no one likely to have had a grudge against this man?” he asked. Here, Peter," he added to a curly-headed lad, who was playing on one of the grassy tombs, "ask your father to step this way.
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