" "But I'm a poor man. ” Resigned, she rosined the bow and tightened the loose strings. His face, as he looked down where his hand sought for a weapon concealed in her petticoat, was so close that she could see only the line of his firm jaw, the drag of his powdered hair that drew it into the military pigtail, and the black ribbon that adorned it. It was a gray day in the spring of 1910. He turned his back on that temptation.
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