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"No, madam."

I could hardly say, and we moved pensively toward Major Harper's tent. Evidently the main poison was still in Gholson's stomach, and when I glanced at him he asked, "What d'you reckon brought Ned Ferry here just at this time?"

"I suppose we might call him a romanticist," said I, "might we not?"

Lit with foolish hope to hear thy fondling sighs, Like yon twilight dove's, breathe, Return, return!

I turned upon her choking with anger, but her melting beauty rendered me helpless. Black woods were on our left. "Shall we turn in here?" I asked.

"Oh, shut your dirty face!" replied the son, while one of his cronies warned both against being overheard. But when this one added something further the old man snarled:

"No, except that it was through--"

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