White told me where to find you. Here again the clothes were minus the labels. On the stranger's appearance, she was seated near the window busily occupied with her needle. He was not addicted to monologue, and the only audible comment he permitted himself at first upon a universe that was evidently anything but satisfactory to him that afternoon, was one compact and entirely unassigned “Damn!” The word must have had some gratifying quality, because he repeated it. Send you the shirt. You understand. I’ve told you that practically already. It was a fetching gown that stretched tightly in a cream colored swath over her breasts and expanded to a full skirt with a petticoat. Her heavy pistol came up again, although she did not rise.
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