He had a narrow escape, however; for, passing within an inch of him, the bullet burried itself deeply in the wall. The thought of you, wandering from pillar to post, believing yourself hunted—it tore my old heart to pieces! For I knew you. She loved Florence, wandering the huge markets which bustled day and night. Then he opened the study door and called “Mollie!” and returned to assume an attitude of authority on the hearthrug, before the blue flames and orange glow of the gas fire.
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