He stood there, large and dark, enunciating, in his clear voice from beneath his large mustache, clear flat sentences, deliberately kindly. “You mustn’t talk any more,” he said, “but I want you to listen to me just for a moment. She seemed to have recovered herself as he returned, but rose as if she would go back to the saloon. She looked at her for a moment fixedly. Their momentary absence seemed to have worked wonders; for now the most perfect understanding appeared to subsist between them.
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