He was smiling under his heavy mustache, and his head was a little on one side as he looked at her. The noose was at its throat when I called for help. "What can it matter to you whether he returns or not, child," rejoined Mrs. "The doctor and I agreed to give you a chance—for her sake. I don't know what you have done; I don't want to know now. He looked just like John Wayne in a cowboy movie, his eyes narrow and squinting, except his hair was long, unruly, and jet black. Besides, you've secrets which must not be disclosed.
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