CHAPTER XXI. What are you after?’ ‘But my pistol and dagger, imbecile,’ she exclaimed impatiently, moving sharply back. She lingered over donning her winter coat, buttoning each toggle and placket, double knotting her long scarf. She sat on the edge of the bed —the wardress was too busy with the flood of arrivals that day to discover that she had it down—and her skin was shivering from the contact of these garments. . ” Michelle started to sob.
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