If only there had not been this single torturing thought—a mere pin-prick, but still curiously persistent. At this juncture, the door was opened by Rachel. Don’t, don’t say anything now, not anything. Since the discovery of them, she had been madly eager to read these typewritten tales. But I want to know whether in such an event you would stand by me?” She held out her hand. And, lastly, to the Seven Cities o' Refuge, in the New Mint. ’ ‘I find that difficult to believe,’ snapped the general, jerking to and fro as his agitation mounted.
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