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CHAPTER I. The inn was a military haunt. . “Tell her,” said Mr. “It isn’t only the dance,” she said. Will you marry me?” Anna looked at him in blank amazement. Efforts were made to staunch his wounds and surgical assistance sent for. "Whose child can this be?" "How the devil should I know!" replied Jonathan gruffly. She has never done a really ignoble thing that I know of— never. "Humph!" exclaimed Jonathan, doubtfully. She read the policeman’s rueful glance when she caught his refection in his rearview mirror. She hastened past. 1. "My chickens are hatched, or, at least, nearly so," replied Shotbolt, with increased merriment. A little inn flying a Swiss flag nestles under a great rock, and there they put aside their knapsacks and lunched and rested in the mid-day shadow of the gorge and the scent of resin.
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