Gosse sagged under the impact, knocking over the card table, and falling to sit, half stunned, the discharged pistol flying from his slackened grasp. ‘Parbleu,’ came indignantly from the lady. Anna sent her away. Keeping to the shadow of the house, he crept forward until he could see better without, he hoped, being seen. “A little touchy this evening, aren’t we, Missy?” Michelle chided her friend. Too many. Set yourself to find it out, if you will—but if you do, never dare to call yourself my friend again.
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