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"Where shall I fly?" exclaimed the lady, bewildered with terror. Distress like hers might palliate far greater offences than she ever committed. “Who wouldn’t be for you?” The train began to move. Farhat who was stranded on a desolate roadside until one fateful day he passed the traveling caravan of the beautiful princess Anoush. I picked up her handkerchief on the floor. His gangling body was clothed in rusty twill trousers and a long black seersucker coat, buttoned to the throat, around which ran a collar which would have marked him the world over as a man of the Word. “I wonder,” she began, presently, “why I love you—and love you so much?. I refused to sign a petition in his behalf to the Recorder; not from any ill-will to him, but because it was prepared by a person whom I particularly dislike— Captain Darrell.
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