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gutenberg. "You are my prisoner. ” With a little crash the pistol fell from her shaking fingers. “But it is so difficult——” “Not at all,” he answered eagerly. Acting upon this humane determination, he impelled himself slowly backwards,—for he did not dare to face the blast,—and with incredible labour and fatigue reached the crevice. ‘If you love me, you will say it, or else I will blow off your head. She felt the warm nearness of his. This niggardliness compelled him to cross and recross streets.
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