I should be sorry if Shotbolt got the reward. She returned home through a world that was as roseate as it had been gray overnight. There was a strip of old rose brocade in the making that set an ache in the girl's heart for the want of it. They began the evening like usual, driving down highways and byways. ’ A tiny giggle escaped her, and she lowered the pistol a trifle. “You might at least,” she murmured, “have invented a more romantic reason. I have broken from prison, and am come to save you.
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