"My horse is at the door, saddled, with pistols in the holsters,—mount him and fly. Well, let's beat it to the hotel. Then perhaps I shall send for him if he has not forgotten. I’d take it— forgive me if I seem a little urgent—as a sort of proof of friendliness. She had to wait some minutes in an outer office, wherein three young men of spirited costume and appearance regarded her with ill-concealed curiosity and admiration. I wasn’t.
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