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He thrust out a rhetorical hand. "My horse is at the door, saddled, with pistols in the holsters,—mount him and fly. ” Miss Miniver followed with an expression of perplexity, her mouth shaped to futile expositions. He advanced a step towards her. A faint, delightfully humorous smile parted her lips. He walked through a wide open archway, curtained with deep-blue curtains, into the apartment that served as a reception-room. A dark mass of wreckage, over which hung a slight mist of vapour, lay half in the ditch, half across the hedge, close under a tree from the trunk of which the bark had been torn and stripped. " "What has he done?" "What did he have to drink over here last night?" "Not even water. “Come on in.
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