” He said. " "Alas! that one so highly born should submit to such a degradation?" groaned the knight. The slack of her ridinghabit and full under-petticoats was gathered into her left hand, and her booted ankles were visible as she held the skirts well out of her way. "Can't I settle this business, Captain," muttered Blueskin, drawing a pistol. Gerald’s thoughts raced as he reached out supporting hands and murmured meaningless phrases to soothe. Death belongs to God, young man.
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