" And she burst into a wild hysterical laugh. " "Not unless your skull's bullet-proof," cried a voice at his elbow; and, as the words were uttered, a pistol was snapped at his head, which,—fortunately or unfortunately, as the reader pleases,—only burnt the priming. Ralph. If only to say goodbye. He wisely refrained from questioning the manager of the Victoria. Let me lie in Willesden churchyard. Ruth loved him.
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