"I think you're all bewitched," she cried. ” She laughed. It was nearly one o’clock; but there were lights still in all her windows. Good night. And if you dare to produce any kind of weapon at all,’ he added, taking a plain brass-barrelled little pistol from his own pocket and levelling it, ‘I will have no compunction in blowing off your head, you madcap female. Still, his robust frame enabled him to hold out.
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