‘Good God! Everett Charvill, as I live. One glance swept across the place and it was immediately apparent that Pottiswick had not, this time, been mistaken. He had not had time to aim the pistol. ‘You’re as mad as she is, Gerald. Wood, with a look meant to reduce her supposed rival to the dust. ’ ‘What are you about now, child?’ demanded Martha apprehensively.
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