It is no fault of your own that you are not at this moment standing there with your head blown off. He poured a pinch of tobacco into his palm and sniffed. Austin could scarcely credit his senses when he beheld him. "Do you call this frantic glee happiness?" "It's all the happiness I have known for years," returned the widow, becoming suddenly calm, "and it's short-lived enough, as you perceive. " CHAPTER IX. You have neither reason nor logic. 8. .
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