Her eyes were insane with rage, crusted with yellow and green, only beginning to heal from her long sojourn underground. "My horse is at the door, saddled, with pistols in the holsters,—mount him and fly. The girl regarded him with the face of a Sphinx. It did not seem quite fair. The Ragged Edge. He spoke in quick nervous sentences. Manning relinquished his cup, and looked meaningly at Ann Veronica.
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