“Like a stab. Gosse sagged under the impact, knocking over the card table, and falling to sit, half stunned, the discharged pistol flying from his slackened grasp. ’ ‘You should be happy that you are not dead,’ she retorted, but with a diminution of the venom and fright in her voice. Your son was seen by the carpenter's wife in company with the robbers. The more haste, the worse speed—better the feet slip than the tongue.
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