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“Am I hurting you?” She asked. “Thank God,” he exclaimed. Kimble had bedded the animal down at the local inn. Brendon and Courtlaw who had been watching for her, met her at the door. I done just what you asked. “If I am,” he answered, reddening, “you can scarcely assert that it is without a cause. And yet—I love you. I'm glad he's come to see me. You are to come home. ‘You ought to be glad someone cares enough about your wretched little neck to try and save it.
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