“I MUST speak to you,” he said. Sheila McCloskey was the real neighborhood watch. It was neither good nor bad. "You hay'n't hurt your arm, I trust, my dear?" he added, anxiously. She opened the window, for the night was mild, and sat on the floor with her chin resting upon the window-sill. ‘I cannot possibly shoot a lady, you know. But I tell you in return, I shall take no pains to hide myself.
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