’ ‘I don’t even know your granddaughter, ma’am. I did not even know where to write and thank you. And talking of every conceivable thing. ‘At me,’ she uttered, holding her own pistol high and aiming it steadily. By this time, she had so far succeeded in calming herself, that she answered the greetings of the neighbours whom she encountered on her way to the sacred edifice—if sorrowfully, still composedly.
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