We were fellow passengers from Charing Cross, and we have been fellow lodgers in the Rue d’Entrepot. "There is no fee," said Dolby. 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. "Coward!" cried Kneebone. Out of the beaten track, far from the trails of men! He relaxed. To his consternation, she was holding an unwieldy, ugly-looking pistol, all wood and tarnished steel, with both hands about the butt.
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