His face, as he looked down where his hand sought for a weapon concealed in her petticoat, was so close that she could see only the line of his firm jaw, the drag of his powdered hair that drew it into the military pigtail, and the black ribbon that adorned it. "Yes, Auntie! And to date you have cost me precisely sixteen thousand dollars— hard earned, every one of them. Perhaps, as you say, I do not really care—but I cannot do it. “I suppose all life is an affair of chances.
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