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Some day I'm going to paint her; but that will be when I've retired. Gosse had moved forward, his pistol arm out straight, his aim true, the gun cocked. Before his departure, he gave his assistant a glove. The recollection of the forlorn and loveless years—stirred into consciousness by the unexpected confrontation—bent her as the high wind bends the water-reed. ’ ‘Well, I am glad he did not,’ intervened Lucilla, forestalling another withering comment from the captain. ” She opened the car door for herself.

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