" "From whom?" vociferated Trenchard. ‘Poor things. I'll repay you. She knew now that he never would. Has he not himself taken my daggers and my pistol and my knife? Alors, he has given me back my pistol and one dagger,’ she conceded conscientiously, ‘which is a very good thing. Her mouth was once more covered as they left the second floor guest saloon and headed for the back stairs. It had been brighter than the rest, for dawn light had come in through high unshuttered casements above the bookshelves. " "Pshaw!" said Wild.
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