" Upon which he drew the trigger of the pistol, which, luckily for the individual against whom it was aimed, flashed in the pan. I am going up to dine with my sister. All of a sudden, there was movement behind him. Manning, Lady Palsworthy’s nephew, a tall young man of seven-and-thirty with a handsome, thoughtful, impassive face, a full black mustache, and a certain heavy luxuriousness of gesture. All at once they came to the top, the faded blue sky overhead, and whichever way he looked, the horizon, the great rocking circle which hemmed them in. “I’m going for a long tramp, auntie,” she said. “Before I took up the Suffrage,” a firm, flat voice remarked, “I could scarcely walk up-stairs without palpitations.
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