Strange, I could never learn her history. She pulled the trigger. As he pocketed it, her open palm reached out and slapped his cheek. Peste, where was her handkerchief? She remembered then that it had been lost in the struggle with Gerald. " Sir Rowland, meantime, throw himself on his knees beside his sister, and, clasping her chilly fingers within his own, besought her forgiveness in the most passionate terms. "And now," she added, with somewhat more composure, "leave me, dear friends, I entreat, for a few minutes to collect my scattered thoughts—to prepare myself for what I have to go through—to pray for my son.
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