’ ‘But what do you want it for, miss?’ ‘But to protect myself. He stood upon the threshold, dangling his eye-glasses in his fingers, stolid, imperturbable, mildly interrogative. I found it on the beach, just sitting there nestled inside a piece of driftwood. They were inscribed with the name RIMBAUER, EMILIO J. Even the stars were strangers. Luckily, Mrs. Wanton! Had I been one, even God would have forgiven me, understanding. By the will of Mr.
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