Or had she, like himself, been held up until the fellow returned to town? He waited, his ready humour anticipating her likely reaction. He would certainly welcome McClintock's advent. ‘Kill him? Oh. The owner of this dress had a broad weather-beaten face, small twinkling eyes, and a bushy, grizzled beard. "Trenchard," he muttered; "Aliva Trenchard—they were right, then, as to the name. He read but little, and that chiefly healthy light fiction with chromatic titles, The Red Sword, The Black Helmet, The Purple Robe, also in order “to distract his mind. He would have to make sure of her silence.
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