“I did it for love of you,” he said. She spoke slowly. ‘Lord, no! I’ve a better regard for my skin, I thank you. To stumble upon the trail through the agency of a bottle of whisky! Drank queer; so his bottle had rendered him conspicuous. ‘Certainly I am not a nun. The afternoon had passed now into twilight. “You remember our first meeting?” “Yes,” he answered hoarsely.
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