" "You don't have to. I've already told you I'm about to take a long journey, and it's more than probable I shall never return. "Who took it thence?" "Thames Darrell; the boy at your side. The soil was identical, the climate; still, they would not bear the Olympian fruit, with its purple-lined jacket and its snow-white pulp. ’ She halted, her pistol still held firm and straight, both hands gripping it, her expressive features at once determined and uncertain. She did not want particularly to know what had caused his agony, what had driven him back to the old coat.
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