She posed herself before her mirror and surveyed herself with gravely thoughtful, gravely critical, and yet admiring eyes. “Cheveney!” she repeated. A ball from Wild's pistol passed through his heart, and a volley of musketry poured from the guards lodged several balls in the yet breathing body of his leader. His face was aquiline but sweet, the years had not yet taken the blush from his cheeks and his lips were similarly rubefacient. And I’ll have that story off you as we journey back to town. A young woman with a white badge on her arm stood and counted the sections as they entered their vans.
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