’ ‘Oh, don’t you?’ Gerald said grimly. Sheppard stopped him. Anna was still holding her cigarette between her fingers. The oblique ruddy lighting distorted them oddly, made queer bars and patches of shadow upon their clothes. But she was not to be tempted. Mind you don't stir till supper's over. ‘I’ll wager that militiaman never rode the animal, then. "What?—help take care of him? Why, you can't do that, Miss Enschede!" was the protest.
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