“Good-bye, John,” she said simply. ‘At me,’ she uttered, holding her own pistol high and aiming it steadily. I cannot tell you much about it, but my bad times are over for the present. Suddenly she had become afraid. Capes would come to these teas; he evidently liked to come, and he would appear in the doorway of the preparation-room, a pleasing note of shyness in his manner, hovering for an invitation.
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