com/E21or Mademoiselle at Arms Threatened with a pistol by the young lady he finds in a deserted mansion, Major Gerald Alderley is intrigued. “Just forget it, Lucy! Keep your secrets to yourself!” He stomped out, slamming the heavily paneled oak door. He wished he had the time to solve this riddle, for it was a riddle, and four-square besides. ‘Give me my pistol!’ Gerald shook his head, slipping the pistol into his pocket. She had, by the magic of recollection, set the picture of the typhoon between herself and her table companions: the terrible rollers thundering on the white shore, the deafening bellow of the wind, the bending and snapping palms, the thatches of the native huts scattering inland, the blur of sand dust, and those two outcasts defying the elements. "The end is the most beautiful in English literature.
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