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Were you born here, madame?’ ‘Mais non. ‘Never trust a gun in female hands,’ grumbled Hilary, dropping the nun’s habit and backing to join his friend. She was looking about her, and her face was dark with anger. “I liked him, and I never undeceived him. Looked all over that dratted convent of yours—or at least Trodger and the men did so—but no sign of them. Her teeth were chattering so hard that she had to clench them for fear of biting off her own tongue.
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