” He glanced over at her cockeyed, and then returned his gaze to the road. ‘But we—mon mari and myself—we have the bonne chance. Annabel shines like a star in the darkness, Rosamund queens it a rose, deep rose; But the lady I love is like sunshine in April weather, She gleams and gladdens, she warms—and goes. ” She said mournfully. After all, where prayer fails, a pistol is bound to succeed.
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