" CHAPTER XIX. " "No. . “Of course!” he said. “Accident! She shot me,” he muttered. Sir John felt hot and furious. Where can we sit down and talk?” He led her across the room towards a window recess, in which a tall, fair young man was seated with an evening paper in his hand. “Aunt!” she said, “I can’t—” Then she caught a wild appeal in her aunt’s blue eye, halted, and the door clicked upon them. “I am very glad to hear you say it,” he repeated, and refrained from further inquiry.
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