She was the High Priestess. A strong arm pulled her closer, and the lips that mouthed her own in tender touches sent her senses reeling. ‘Are you going to come quietly, mademoiselle?’ he demanded with grim determination. But if only you will come I do not care. To Ruth the thought of Hartford no longer projected upon her vision a city of spires and houses and tree-lined streets. The pistol was his own, it is true, but it was one which was taken from him when he forced his way in upon me before.
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