A snarl contorted his features, and he marched up to it, laying his pistol down on the marquetry table so that his hands were free to grab the picture off the wall. " "Why, surely you don't think your guests would steal them," observed Rachel, archly. “Oh, yes,” the stranger remarked good-humouredly. If they entered a shop, he paused by the doorway, as if waiting for the journey to be resumed.
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