" "Do you want me to tell her that I am grateful?" "Well, aren't you?" "I don't know; I really don't know. I wanted to have something to give up. Valade, who was standing by her chair, glancing around the packed pink-papered saloon with a heavy frown on his face, was a thickset man of coarse, reddened feature, with a discontented air. The arm about her was steel hard, and she felt the weapon that was placed at her heart, which thumped uncomfortably in her chest.
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