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If individuality means anything it means breaking bounds— adventure. If not, I have plenty to think about,” she answered, leaning back in her chair, and watching the smoke from her own cigarette curl upwards. When the turnkey, next morning, stepp'd into his room, The sight of the hole in the wall struck him dumb; The sheriff's black bracelets lay strewn on the ground, But the lad that had worn 'em could nowhere be found. Between herself and yonder evil mind she had the strongest buckler God could give—love. His eyes were closed.
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