" And he raised his arm with the intention of executing his purpose, when a ball from Jack's pistol passed through the back of his hand, shattering the limb. ” Mike said as he vigorously shook Martin’s hand. Jacques, Jacques!’ His face was white, but his eyes were open, if a trifle glazed. Her eyes filled as she thought of him, the image of his laughing countenance coming into her mind, to be swiftly followed by a vision of the blood running from his cut hand. It developed into a sort of secret and private bad manners.
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