It had been discussed in silence. " Her son complied, and sat down upon the patch-work coverlet beside her. Only one thing emerged with any reasonable clarity in her mind at once, and that was that unless she was saved from drowning by an unmarried man, in which case the ceremony is unavoidable, or totally destitute of under-clothing, and so driven to get a trousseau, in which hardship a trousseau would certainly be “ripping,” marriage was an experience to be strenuously evaded. Her gaze flickered down to his pistol. Mischief bubbled up in her. "Come and sit down by me.
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