She closed the book that she had been pretending to read and gathered her black umbrella and her backpack, a childish accoutrement she despised. ” With a little crash the pistol fell from her shaking fingers. “All’s well that ends well,” he said; “and the less one says about things the better. “I wish,” she said, “that you would leave off looking at me as though I were something grisly. Upon this island whither he was bound there would be no diversions, breathing spells; the battle would be constant.
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