‘Never trust a gun in female hands,’ grumbled Hilary, dropping the nun’s habit and backing to join his friend. He continued alternately to be tossed in the air, or rolled in the kennel until he was borne out of sight. “I believe,” he said slowly, “that I shall do best to throw myself upon your consideration and tell you the truth. She was standing there, smiling at the audience as at her friends. Seemed like he knew so much—more than me, miss.
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