“Won’t you sit down,” she said, “and tell me what you want to say?” Her voice was flat and faint. “What were you trying to do?” Lucy asked. You did not learn that in a convent. " Spurlock pointed in the sloping fields outside the walls. She made a few protests, a few excuses for her action in accepting him, a few lame explanations, but he did not heed them or care for them. She looked up and said, a little breathlessly, “I’m sorry, aunt, but I don’t think I can. There isn’t a husband breathing, Annabel, who wouldn’t have blessed that pistol in your hands, and prayed God that the bullet might go straight. She would lure him, as he was an easily tempted child predator who could even more easily be turned into prey. She traced him by his scent.
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