His hand went to his pocket and extracted a neat silver-mounted pistol. The chapel was crowded to excess. Wearied at length with thinking on the past, and terrified by the prospect of the future, he threw himself on the straw with which the cage was littered, and endeavoured to compose himself to slumber. . The great gray boles of the palms reminded him of some fabulous Grecian temple. I mean I’m not a good specimen of a woman.
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