Playing with one hand he turned on his stool to glance at her. "My horse is at the door, saddled, with pistols in the holsters,—mount him and fly. Red apples and snow! How often had these two things entered his thoughts since his wanderings began? Red apples and snow!—and never again to behold them! "I am going out for a little while," she said. ” He did not look at her. He turned back at once. The island was snake-free.
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