She produced a handkerchief, and with one sweep of this and a simultaneous gulp had abolished her fit of weeping. " "I imagine I've been in a kind of trance. " "Probably Mr. . ” She smiled at him. Why? Because Howard Spurlock the author dared not risk the liberty of Howard Spurlock the malefactor; because there were still some dregs in this cup of irony. Her mouth was once more covered as they left the second floor guest saloon and headed for the back stairs.
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