His hand went to his pocket and extracted a neat silver-mounted pistol. To be near someone, even someone who made a pretense of friendliness, to hear voices, her own intermingling, would serve as a rehabilitating tonic. McClintock will have some. Then, even as they stood there, the room was plunged into darkness. It was as if she had come upon the beautiful marble façade of a fairy palace, was invited to enter, and behind the door—nothing. ” Everything was good. CHAPTER XXII. The Storm.
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