Day after day—five, to be exact—she had returned to Morgan's; and each time the man would understand what had drawn her, and with a kindly smile would sit down at the piano and play. She turned into the study, sat down at the table and fingered the pencils, curiously stirred. The pistol, it was not loaded. " "I will be there," answered Trenchard, gloomily. ’ ‘No, I wouldn’t have believed you. I am sorry to seem to hurt you, but all I say is for your good.
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