She released her clutch on it as, dizzy with exhaustion, she leaned against the back of the pew and closed her eyes, her fingers grasping out automatically for support. During this dreadful pause the wretched man felt for his sword. She pulled her chair with a mild creak and marched towards the stair. "I was right," replied Jack, returning as coolly as if nothing had happened. She seemed to have recovered herself as he returned, but rose as if she would go back to the saloon. Very doubtful. She struggled against it quite uselessly.
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