The doctor and Anna were left alone. Jane was a smoldering auburn-haired Irish beauty who seldom spoke to anyone. She colored faintly. She was pensive and thoughtful. Each wing had a small cupola; and, in the centre of the pile rose a larger dome, surmounted by a gilded ball and vane. She stepped on to the pavement almost before him, and his blood turned almost to ice as he saw that she was not alone. ‘You wouldn’t know one end of a pistol from the other.
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