What a pig she was. "But what is an oath to you!" cried the widow, distrustfully. Stanley almost liked Ramage. Be so good as to let me pass, sir,” she added, looking her obstructor steadily in the face. Soon they came to treat Lucy almost as mother, pulling hard at her brown curls and laughing delightedly as they sprang back into their spiral shape. She found herself struggling with a storm of tears. To his consternation, she was holding an unwieldy, ugly-looking pistol, all wood and tarnished steel, with both hands about the butt.
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