She loved her mother Marina more than any other thing in the world and could not bear to speak to her for a fortnight after being told her fate. Flesh and blood, vivid, alluring; she was no longer the symbol, therefore she had become, as in the twinkling of an eye, an utter stranger. She looked about and discovered a door partially hidden by shadow. After all, where prayer fails, a pistol is bound to succeed. " "We'll see that, young hempseed," replied Sharples, shutting the hatch furiously in his face, and locking it.
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