” There was silence between them. “You have them both,” Anna answered. Sheppard. ” A momentary bitterness crept into Anna’s tone. “Yes. " "Not unless your skull's bullet-proof," cried a voice at his elbow; and, as the words were uttered, a pistol was snapped at his head, which,—fortunately or unfortunately, as the reader pleases,—only burnt the priming. I didn’t ought to have sent for him. It was precious for two reasons: it was the photograph of her beautiful mother whom she could not remember, and it would identify her to the aunt in Hartford. Suddenly she thrust her head out of the window. Deep verandas ran around the bungalows, with bamboo drops which were always down in the daytime, fending off the treacherous sunshine.
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