" CHAPTER XX To Spurlock it seemed as if a great iron door had swung in behind him, shutting out the old world. It was a long walk she had to undertake, even if she had endured no previous fatigue, but feeble as she was, it was almost more than she could accomplish. . Her mother brewed potions to scent her hair, sweet balms of anise for her lips and hands, told her wonderful secrets, some decidedly un-Christian. ‘At me,’ she uttered, holding her own pistol high and aiming it steadily.
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