He inspected the formidable array of rifles and at length walked over to the register. He would sit in his inner office and compose conversations with her, penetrating, illuminating, and nearly conclusive—conversations that never proved to be of the slightest use at all with her when he met her face to face. “I believe,” he said slowly, “that I shall do best to throw myself upon your consideration and tell you the truth. ‘Hilary, thank God! Have you a pistol about you? Or better yet, your sword. " Mr.
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