He made some obvious comments on the wide view warming toward its autumnal blaze that spread itself in hill and valley, wood and village, below. “I believe that you are right,” he said softly. "But I wish her hand had been as deadly as yours. He went over her features one by one in his mind. 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. " "And, what good would that do?" replied Ireton, sarcastically.
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