After some time, the scuffle grew more and more distant, until nothing could be heard. Her white shirt was mired with a central bloodstain, his pants caked with mud. " "There's a funny idea in my head. "And you have seen … drunken men?" Prudence's tones were full of suppressed horror. “All’s well that ends well,” he said; “and the less one says about things the better. “I suppose you could at least tune it for us if you know how to play. ’ He nodded in the direction of her pistol.
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