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I had not. Her driver gathered the reins and I drew back.

"No," she laughed, "and if I go back with you to Wiggins--to the little white cottage, you know, opposite the blacksmith's shop,--you'll give me what you've got for me, won't you?" She dropped her head to one side and a mocking-bird chuckle rippled in her throat.

"She ain't awa-ay."

"Good-morning," I murmured.

"He's on my private horse!" I retorted.

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