McClintock did not exaggerate his ability to read faces. There was a sharp knocking at the outside door. A bad man, in fact. "Adorable girl!" he cried, in the most impassioned tone, and with the most impassioned look he could command. ‘Where are you taking me?’ she asked, assuming a fearful accent. “Won’t you sit down,” she said, “and tell me what you want to say?” Her voice was flat and faint. "She was mine before you ever saw her.
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