Mr. Lucy sized up the girl. She did not have to investigate that his door was locked. "What are you doing with him?" "It's a long story, Captain, and I've no breath to tell it,—unless you choose to release me," rejoined Quilt. The fire—if there was any in him—never made headway against this insistant demand to know the significance of these manifold inward agitations. “Tell your sister she was right to shoot, quite right. But heavens, I must pack!” She sprang to her feet and disappeared in the room beyond, from which she emerged a few minutes later with flushed cheeks and dishevelled hair.
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