Once she heard him mutter, and she leaned down. “I had the pleasure of—er—meeting you more than once, I believe. ’ *** It must have been fate, Gerald decided, near an hour later, staring intently at the closed French windows on the raised alcove that led out to the terrace. "My horse is at the door, saddled, with pistols in the holsters,—mount him and fly. As he balanced the photograph, a humorous twinkle came into his eyes. That's well. Men ought not to idealize any woman.
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