\" He looked crestfallen. ’ The door opened and Saling entered again. . It forbids—all sorts of things. He laid her on their old bed and kissed her from head to toe. He was in evening dress: swallow-tailed coat and white tie. His tone was rough, almost threatening. "Why do you laugh?" he asked. After all, where prayer fails, a pistol is bound to succeed. There it was—to be borrowed. And since then, he has openly avowed his determination of cutting his master's throat on the slightest inkling of treachery.
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