155 The ringing doorbell jarred her from her stupor. Shari was snoring, the pill having worked its magic. “Run in now. Two shots were fired at him by Jonathan; one of which passed through his hat, and the other through the fleshy part of his arm; but he made good his retreat. To make Ruth pay for it! He wanted to get away, into some immense echoless tract where he could give vent to this wild laughter which tore at his vitals. You forget all the mass of training and tradition and instinct that go to make him a tolerable master. My mother died the day I was born; that’s what they tell me. “What was that?” she asked sharply.
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