’ He nodded in the direction of her pistol. The trees were graceful and brown, arching and fanning their golden leaves as if to shower with coins the pink-gold sky. The echo of those kindly words seemed still to ring in her ears. And as he gave back the portfolio to Sir Rowland he contrived, unobserved, to slip the precious document into his sleeve, and from thence into his pocket. She had prepared herself to meet violent protest, a recurrence of that burning glance.
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