" "My son!" echoed the widow, trembling. “Then let me be the judge of what is best,” she answered. ‘The place was full of barbers and military men. ‘You do not try. The larger problem at hand was drugging her foster sister, Shari, into a deep sleep. “You seem to forget that my sister is—married. “Father,” she cried, “I have to live!” He misunderstood her. There was no need of sowing suspicion when he wasn't really certain there were grounds for it. He had a handsome, jolly-looking face; stood six feet two in his stockings; and measured more than a cloth-yard shaft across the shoulders—athletic proportions derived from his father the dragoon.
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