‘And I do understand. I pray you, Gérard, do not fail me. There isn’t a husband breathing, Annabel, who wouldn’t have blessed that pistol in your hands, and prayed God that the bullet might go straight. " As Jonathan said this, Jack's hand involuntarily sought a pistol. She flushed with desire and happiness, her husband had returned to her and all would be aright. “No, I must have had hope lurking somewhere too. ” “I would forgive you a great deal more,” he answered readily, “for the sake of an evening like this. ” She whispered to him.
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