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Gosse had moved forward, his pistol arm out straight, his aim true, the gun cocked. She saw a pole-chair; that would be this Mr. "Then you need no further information from me," rejoined Jackson, sternly. The detective reckoned that his quarry would be up in ten days more. "You hay'n't hurt your arm, I trust, my dear?" he added, anxiously. When she awoke she felt as if she were adrift on a soft cloud through a golden sky.
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