Before the question could be answered, a side-door was opened, and a very handsome woman of Amazonian proportions presented herself, and marched familiarly up to Mr. “Miss Pellissier,” he said, “don’t!” “Why not?” she asked, smiling. Then he stepped briskly to his feet and bent over the wounded man. Then he turned round and gazed thoughtfully at the particular spot in the fog where Courtlaw had disappeared. "I am, Charcoal.
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