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  Mr. George Benn, retired boat-swain, sighed noisily, and with adespondent gesture, turned to the door and stood with the handle in hishand; Mrs. Waters, sitting behind the tiny bar in a tall Windsor-chair,eyed him with some heat.

  "My feelings'll never change," said the boatswain.

  "Nor mine either," said the landlady, sharply. "It's a strange thing,Mr. Benn, but you always ask me to marry you after the third mug."

  "It's only to get my courage up," pleaded the boatswain. "Next time I'lldo it afore I 'ave a drop; that'll prove to you I'm in earnest."

  He stepped outside and closed the door before the landlady could make aselection from the many retorts that crowded to her lips.

  After the cool bar, with its smell of damp saw-dust, the road seemed hotand dusty; but the boatswain, a prey to gloom natural to a man whosehand has been refused five times in a fortnight, walked on unheeding.His steps lagged, but his brain was active.

  He walked for two miles deep in thought, and then coming to a shady banktook a seat upon an inviting piece of turf and lit his pipe. The heatand the drowsy hum of bees made him nod; his pipe hung from the cornerof his mouth, and his eyes closed.

  He opened them at the sound of approaching footsteps, and, feeling inhis pocket for matches, gazed lazily at the intruder. He saw a tall mancarrying a small bundle over his shoulder, and in the erect carriage,the keen eyes, and bronzed face had little difficulty in detecting theold soldier.

  The stranger stopped as he reached the seated boatswain and eyed himpleasantly.

  "Got a pipe o' baccy, mate?" he inquired.

  The boatswain handed him the small metal box in which he kept thatluxury.

  "Lobster, ain't you?" he said, affably.

  The tall man nodded. "Was," he replied. "Now I'm my owncommander-in-chief."

  "Padding it?" suggested the boatswain, taking the box from him andrefilling his pipe.

  The other nodded, and with the air of one disposed to conversationdropped his bundle in the ditch and took a seat beside him. "I've gotplenty of time," he remarked.

  Mr. Benn nodded, and for a while smoked on in silence. A dim idea whichhad been in his mind for some time began to clarify. He stole a glanceat his companion--a man of about thirty-eight, clear eyes, with humorouswrinkles at the corners, a heavy moustache, and a cheerful expressionmore than tinged with recklessness.

  "Ain't over and above fond o' work?" suggested the boatswain, when hehad finished his inspection.

  "I love it," said the other, blowing a cloud of smoke in the air, "butwe can't have all we want in this world; it wouldn't be good for us."

  The boatswain thought of Mrs. Waters, and sighed. Then he rattled hispocket.

  "Would arf a quid be any good to you?" he inquired.

  "Look here," began the soldier; "just because I asked you for a pipe o'baccy--"

  "No offence," said the other, quickly. "I mean if you earned it?"

  The soldier nodded and took his pipe from his mouth. "Gardening andwindows?" he hazarded, with a shrug of his shoulders.

  The boatswain shook his head.

  "Scrubbing, p'r'aps?" said the soldier, with a sigh of resignation."Last house I scrubbed out I did it so thoroughly they accused me ofpouching the soap. Hang 'em!"

  "And you didn't?" queried the boatswain, eyeing him keenly.

  The soldier rose and, knocking the ashes out of his pipe, gazed at himdarkly. "I can't give it back to you," he said, slowly, "because I'vesmoked some of it, and I can't pay you for it because I've only gottwopence, and that I want for myself. So long, matey, and next time apoor wretch asks you for a pipe, be civil."

  "I never see such a man for taking offence in all my born days,"expostulated the boat-swain. "I 'ad my reasons for that remark, mate.Good reasons they was."

  The soldier grunted and, stooping, picked up his bundle.

  "I spoke of arf a sovereign just now," continued the boatswain,impressively, "and when I tell you that I offer it to you to do a bit o'burgling, you'll see 'ow necessary it is for me to be certain of yourhonesty."

  "Burgling?" gasped the astonished soldier. "Honesty? 'Struth; are youdrunk or am I?"

  "Meaning," said the boatswain, waving the imputation away with his hand,"for you to pretend to be a burglar."

  "We're both drunk, that's what it is," said the other, resignedly.

  The boatswain fidgeted. "If you don't agree, mum's the word and no 'armdone," he said, holding out his hand.

  "Mum's the word," said the soldier, taking it. "My name's Ned Travers,and, barring cells for a spree now and again, there's nothing againstit. Mind that."

  "Might 'appen to anybody," said Mr. Benn, soothingly. "You fill yourpipe and don't go chucking good tobacco away agin."

  Mr. Travers took the offered box and, with economy born of adversity,stooped and filled up first with the plug he had thrown away. Then heresumed his seat and, leaning back luxuriously, bade the other "fireaway."

  "I ain't got it all ship-shape and proper yet," said Mr. Benn, slowly,"but it's in my mind's eye. It's been there off and on like for sometime."

  He lit his pipe again and gazed fixedly at the opposite hedge. "Twomiles from here, where I live," he said, after several vigorous puffs,"there's a little public-'ouse called the Beehive, kept by a lady wotI've got my eye on."

  The soldier sat up.

  "She won't 'ave me," said the boatswain, with an air of mild surprise.

  The soldier leaned back again.

  "She's a lone widder," continued Mr. Benn, shaking his head, "and theBeehive is in a lonely place. It's right through the village, and thenearest house is arf a mile off."

  "Silly place for a pub," commented Mr. Travers.

  "I've been telling her 'ow unsafe it is," said the boatswain. "I've beentelling her that she wants a man to protect her, and she only laughs atme. She don't believe it; d'ye see? Likewise I'm a small man--small, butstiff. She likes tall men."

  "Most women do," said Mr. Travers, sitting upright and instinctivelytwisting his moustache. "When I was in the ranks--"

  "My idea is," continued the boatswain, slightly raising his voice, "tokill two birds with one stone--prove to her that she does want beingprotected, and that I'm the man to protect her. D'ye take my meaning,mate?"

  The soldier reached out a hand and felt the other's biceps. "Like a lumpo' wood," he said, approvingly.

  "My opinion is," said the boatswain, with a faint smirk, "that she lovesme without knowing it."

  "They often do," said Mr. Travers, with a grave shake of his head.

  "Consequently I don't want 'er to be disappointed," said the other.

  "It does you credit," remarked Mr. Travers.

  "I've got a good head," said Mr. Benn, "else I shouldn't 'ave got myrating as boatswain as soon as I did; and I've been turning it over inmy mind, over and over agin, till my brain-pan fair aches with it. Now,if you do what I want you to to-night and it comes off all right, dammeI'll make it a quid."

  "Go on, Vanderbilt," said Mr. Travers; "I'm listening."

  The boatswain gazed at him fixedly. "You meet me 'ere in this spot ateleven o'clock to-night," he said, solemnly; "and I'll take you to her'ouse and put you through a little winder I know of. You goes upstairsand alarms her, and she screams for help. I'm watching the house,faithful-like, and hear 'er scream. I dashes in at the winder, knocksyou down, and rescues her. D'ye see?"

  "I hear," corrected Mr. Travers, coldly.

  "She clings to me," continued the boat-swain, with a rapt expression offace, "in her gratitood, and, proud of my strength and pluck, shemarries me."

  "An' I get a five years' honeymoon," said the soldier.

  The boatswain shook his head and patted the other's shoulder. "In theexcitement of the moment you spring up and escape," he said, with akindly smile. "I've thought it all out. You can run much faster than Ican; any-ways, you will. The nearest 'ouse is arf a mile off, as I said,and her servant is staying till to-morrow at 'er mother's, ten milesaway."

  Mr
. Travers rose to his feet and stretched himself. "Time I wastoddling," he said, with a yawn. "Thanks for amusing me, mate."

  "You won't do it?" said the boatswain, eyeing him with much concern.

  "I'm hanged if I do," said the soldier, emphatically. "Accidents willhappen, and then where should I be?"

  "If they did," said the boatswain, "I'd own up and clear you."

  "You might," said Mr. Travers, "and then again you mightn't. So long,mate."

  "I--I'll make it two quid," said the boat-swain, trembling witheagerness. "I've took a fancy to you; you're just the man for the job."

  The soldier, adjusting his bundle, glanced at him over his shoulder."Thankee," he said, with mock gratitude.

  "Look 'ere," said the boatswain, springing up and catching him by thesleeve; "I'll give it to you in writing. Come, you ain't faint-hearted?Why, a bluejacket 'ud do it for the fun o' the thing. If I give it toyou in writing, and there should be an accident, it's worse for me thanit is for you, ain't it?"

  Mr. Travers hesitated and, pushing his cap back, scratched his head.

  "I gives you the two quid afore you go into the house," continued theboatswain, hastily following up the impression he had made. "I'd give'em to you now if I'd got 'em with me. That's my confidence in you; Ilikes the look of you. Soldier or sailor, when there is a man's work tobe done, give 'em to me afore anybody."

  The soldier seated himself again and let his bundle fall to the ground."Go on," he said, slowly. "Write it out fair and square and sign it, andI'm your man."

  The boatswain clapped him on the shoulder and produced a bundle ofpapers from his pocket. "There's letters there with my name and addresson 'em," he said. "It's all fair, square, and above-board. When you'vecast your eyes over them I'll give you the writing."

  Mr. Travers took them and, re-lighting his pipe, smoked in silence, withvarious side glances at his companion as that enthusiast sucked hispencil and sat twisting in the agonies of composition. The documentfinished--after several failures had been retrieved and burnt by thecareful Mr. Travers--the boat-swain heaved a sigh of relief, and handingit over to him, leaned back with a complacent air while he read it.

  "Seems all right," said the soldier, folding it up and putting it in hiswaistcoat-pocket. "I'll be here at eleven to-night."

  "Eleven it is," said the boatswain, briskly, "and, between pals--here'sarf a dollar to go on with."

  He patted him on the shoulder again, and with a caution to keep out ofsight as much as possible till night walked slowly home. His step waslight, but he carried a face in which care and exultation were strangelymingled.

  By ten o'clock that night care was in the ascendant, and by eleven, whenhe discerned the red glow of Mr. Travers's pipe set as a beacon againsta dark background of hedge, the boatswain was ready to curse hisinventive powers. Mr. Travers greeted him cheerily and, honestlyattributing the fact to good food and a couple of pints of beer he hadhad since the boatswain left him, said that he was ready for anything.

  Mr. Benn grunted and led the way in silence. There was no moon, but thenight was clear, and Mr. Travers, after one or two light-heartedattempts at conversation, abandoned the effort and fell to whistlingsoftly instead.

  Except for one lighted window the village slept in darkness, but theboatswain, who had been walking with the stealth of a Red Indian on thewar-path, breathed more freely after they had left it behind. A renewalof his antics a little farther on apprised Mr. Travers that they wereapproaching their destination, and a minute or two later they came to asmall inn standing just off the road. "All shut up and Mrs. Waters abed,bless her," whispered the boatswain, after walking care-fully round thehouse. "How do you feel?"

  "I'm all right," said Mr. Travers. "I feel as if I'd been burgling allmy life. How do you feel?"

  "Narvous," said Mr. Benn, pausing under a small window at the rear ofthe house. "This is the one."

  Mr. Travers stepped back a few paces and gazed up at the house. All wasstill. For a few moments he stood listening and then re-joined theboatswain.

  "Good-bye, mate," he said, hoisting himself on to the sill. "Death orvictory."

  The boatswain whispered and thrust a couple of sovereigns into his hand."Take your time; there's no hurry," he muttered. "I want to pull myselftogether. Frighten 'er enough, but not too much. When she screams I'llcome in."

  Mr. Travers slipped inside and then thrust his head out of the window."Won't she think it funny you should be so handy?" he inquired.

  "No; it's my faithful 'art," said the boat-swain, "keeping watch overher every night, that's the ticket. She won't know no better."

  Mr. Travers grinned, and removing his boots passed them out to theother. "We don't want her to hear me till I'm upstairs," he whispered."Put 'em outside, handy for me to pick up."

  The boatswain obeyed, and Mr. Travers--who was by no means a good handat darning socks--shivered as he trod lightly over a stone floor. Then,following the instructions of Mr. Benn, he made his way to the stairsand mounted noiselessly.

  But for a slight stumble half-way up his progress was very creditablefor an amateur. He paused and listened and, all being silent, made hisway to the landing and stopped out-side a door. Despite himself hisheart was beating faster than usual.

  He pushed the door open slowly and started as it creaked. Nothinghappening he pushed again, and standing just inside saw, by a small ewersilhouetted against the casement, that he was in a bedroom. He listenedfor the sound of breathing, but in vain.

  "Quiet sleeper," he reflected; "or perhaps it is an empty room. Now, Iwonder whether--"

  The sound of an opening door made him start violently, and he stoodstill, scarcely breathing, with his ears on the alert. A light shone onthe landing, and peeping round the door he saw a woman coming along thecorridor--a younger and better-looking woman than he had expected tosee. In one hand she held aloft a candle, in the other she bore adouble-barrelled gun. Mr. Travers withdrew into the room and, as thelight came nearer, slipped into a big cupboard by the side of thefireplace and, standing bolt upright, waited. The light came into theroom.

  "Must have been my fancy," said a pleasant voice.

  "Bless her," smiled Mr. Travers.

  His trained ear recognized the sound of cocking triggers. The nextmoment a heavy body bumped against the door of the cupboard and the keyturned in the lock.

  "Got you!" said the voice, triumphantly. "Keep still; if you try andbreak out I shall shoot you."

  "All right," said Mr. Travers, hastily; "I won't move."

  "Better not," said the voice. "Mind, I've got a gun pointing straight atyou."

  "Point it downwards, there's a good girl," said Mr. Travers, earnestly;"and take your finger off the trigger. If anything happened to me you'dnever forgive yourself."

  "It's all right so long as you don't move," said the voice; "and I'm nota girl," it added, sternly.

  "Yes, you are," said the prisoner. "I saw you. I thought it was an angelat first. I saw your little bare feet and--"

  A faint scream interrupted him.

  "You'll catch cold," urged Mr. Travers.

  "Don't you trouble about me," said the voice, tartly.

  "I won't give any trouble," said Mr. Travers, who began to think it wastime for the boatswain to appear on the scene. "Why don't you call forhelp? I'll go like a lamb."

  "I don't want your advice," was the reply. "I know what to do. Now,don't you try and break out. I'm going to fire one barrel out of thewindow, but I've got the other one for you if you move."

  "My dear girl," protested the horrified Mr. Travers, "you'll alarm theneighbourhood."

  "Just what I want to do," said the voice. "Keep still, mind."

  Mr. Travers hesitated. The game was up, and it was clear that in anycase the stratagem of the ingenious Mr. Benn would have to be disclosed.

  "Stop!" he said, earnestly. "Don't do anything rash. I'm not a burglar;I'm doing this for a friend of yours--Mr. Benn."

  "What?" said an amazed voice.
/>   "True as I stand here," asseverated Mr. Travers. "Here, here's myinstructions. I'll put 'em under the door, and if you go to the backwindow you'll see him in the garden waiting."

  He rustled the paper under the door, and it was at once snatched fromhis fingers. He regained an upright position and stood listening to thestartled and indignant exclamations of his gaoler as she read theboatswain's permit:

  "This is to give notice that I, George Benn, being of sound mind and body, have told Ned Travers to pretend to be a burglar at Mrs. Waters's. He ain't a burglar, and I shall be outside all the time. It's all above-board and ship-shape.

  "(Signed) George Benn"

  "Sound mind--above-board--ship-shape," repeated a dazed voice. "Where is he?"

  "Out at the back," replied Mr. Travers. "If you go to the window you cansee him. Now, do put something round your shoulders, there's a goodgirl."

  There was no reply, but a board creaked. He waited for what seemed along time, and then the board creaked again.

  "Did you see him?" he inquired.

  "I did," was the sharp reply. "You both ought to be ashamed ofyourselves. You ought to be punished."

  "There is a clothes-peg sticking into the back of my head," remarked Mr.Travers. "What are you going to do?"

  There was no reply.

  "What are you going to do?" repeated Mr. Travers, somewhat uneasily."You look too nice to do anything hard; leastways, so far as I can judgethrough this crack."

  There was a smothered exclamation, and then sounds of somebody movinghastily about the room and the swish of clothing hastily donned.

  "You ought to have done it before," commented the thoughtful Mr.Travers. "It's enough to give you your death of cold."

  "Mind your business," said the voice, sharply. "Now, if I let you out,will you promise to do exactly as I tell you?"

  "Honour bright," said Mr. Travers, fervently.

  "I'm going to give Mr. Benn a lesson he won't forget," proceeded theother, grimly. "I'm going to fire off this gun, and then run down andtell him I've killed you."

  "Eh?" said the amazed Mr. Travers. "Oh, Lord!"

  "H'sh! Stop that laughing," commanded the voice. "He'll hear you. Bequiet!"

  The key turned in the lock, and Mr. Travers, stepping forth, clapped hishand over his mouth and endeavoured to obey. Mrs. Waters, stepping backwith the gun ready, scrutinized him closely.

  "Come on to the landing," said Mr. Travers, eagerly. "We don't wantanybody else to hear. Fire into this."

  He snatched a patchwork rug from the floor and stuck it up against thebalusters. "You stay here," said Mrs. Waters. He nodded.

  She pointed the gun at the hearth-rug, the walls shook with theexplosion, and, with a shriek that set Mr. Travers's teeth on edge, sherushed downstairs and, drawing back the bolts of the back door, totteredoutside and into the arms of the agitated boatswain.

  "Oh! oh! oh!" she cried.

  "What--what's the matter?" gasped the boatswain.

  The widow struggled in his arms. "A burglar," she said, in a tensewhisper. "But it's all right; I've killed him."

  "Kill--" stuttered the other. "Kill----Killed him?"

  Mrs. Waters nodded and released herself, "First shot," she said, with asatisfied air.

  The boatswain wrung his hands. "Good heavens!" he said, moving slowlytowards the door. "Poor fellow!"

  "Come back," said the widow, tugging at his coat.

  "I was--was going to see--whether I could do anything for 'im," quaveredthe boatswain. "Poor fellow!"

  "You stay where you are," commanded Mrs. Waters. "I don't want anywitnesses. I don't want this house to have a bad name. I'm going to keepit quiet."

  "Quiet?" said the shaking boatswain. "How?"

  "First thing to do," said the widow, thoughtfully, "is to get rid of thebody. I'll bury him in the garden, I think. There's a very good bit ofground behind those potatoes. You'll find the spade in the tool-house."

  The horrified Mr. Benn stood stock-still regarding her.

  "While you're digging the grave," continued Mrs. 'Waters, calmly, "I'llgo in and clean up the mess."

  The boatswain reeled and then fumbled with trembling fingers at hiscollar.

  Like a man in a dream he stood watching as she ran to the tool-house andreturned with a spade and pick; like a man in a dream he followed her onto the garden.

  "Be careful," she said, sharply; "you're treading down my potatoes."

  The boatswain stopped dead and stared at her. Apparently unconscious ofhis gaze, she began to pace out the measurements and then, placing thetools in his hands, urged him to lose no time.

  "I'll bring him down when you're gone," she said, looking towards thehouse.

  The boatswain wiped his damp brow with the back of his hand. "How areyou going to get it downstairs?" he breathed.

  "Drag it," said Mrs. Waters, briefly.

  "Suppose he isn't dead?" said the boat-swain, with a gleam of hope.

  "Fiddlesticks!" said Mrs. Waters. "Do you think I don't know? Now, don'twaste time talking; and mind you dig it deep. I'll put a few cabbages ontop afterwards--I've got more than I want."

  She re-entered the house and ran lightly upstairs. The candle was stillalight and the gun was leaning against the bed-post; but the visitor haddisappeared. Conscious of an odd feeling of disappointment, she lookedround the empty room.

  "Come and look at him," entreated a voice, and she turned and beheld theamused countenance of her late prisoner at the door.

  "I've been watching from the back window," he said, nodding. "You're awonder; that's what you are. Come and look at him."

  Mrs. Waters followed, and leaning out of the window watched with simplepleasure the efforts of the amateur sexton. Mr. Benn was digging likeone possessed, only pausing at intervals to straighten his back and tocast a fearsome glance around him. The only thing that marred herpleasure was the behaviour of Mr. Travers, who was struggling for aplace with all the fervour of a citizen at the Lord Mayor's show.

  "Get back," she said, in a fierce whisper. "He'll see you."

  Mr. Travers with obvious reluctance obeyed, just as the victim lookedup.

  "Is that you, Mrs. Waters?" inquired the boatswain, fearfully.

  "Yes, of course it is," snapped the widow. "Who else should it be, doyou think? Go on! What are you stopping for?"

  Mr. Benn's breathing as he bent to his task again was distinctlyaudible. The head of Mr. Travers ranged itself once more alongside thewidow's. For a long time they watched in silence.

  "Won't you come down here, Mrs. Waters?" called the boatswain, lookingup so suddenly that Mr. Travers's head bumped painfully against the sideof the window. "It's a bit creepy, all alone."

  "I'm all right," said Mrs. Waters.

  "I keep fancying there's something dodging behind them currant bushes,"pursued the unfortunate Mr. Benn, hoarsely. "How you can stay therealone I can't think. I thought I saw something looking over yourshoulder just now. Fancy if it came creeping up behind and caught holdof you! The widow gave a sudden faint scream.

  "If you do that again!" she said, turning fiercely on Mr. Travers.

  "He put it into my head," said the culprit, humbly; "I should never havethought of such a thing by myself. I'm one of the quietest andbest-behaved----"

  "Make haste, Mr. Benn," said the widow, turning to the window again;"I've got a lot to do when you've finished."

  The boatswain groaned and fell to digging again, and Mrs. Waters, afterwatching a little while longer, gave Mr. Travers some pointedinstructions about the window and went down to the garden again.

  "That will do, I think," she said, stepping into the hole and regardingit critically. "Now you'd better go straight off home, and, mind, not aword to a soul about this."

  She put her hand on his shoulder, and noticing with pleasure that heshuddered at her touch led the way to the gate. The boat-swain pausedfor a moment, as though about to speak, and then, apparently thinkingb
etter of it, bade her good-bye in a hoarse voice and walked feebly upthe road. Mrs. Waters stood watching until his steps died away in thedistance, and then, returning to the garden, took up the spade and stoodregarding with some dismay the mountainous result of his industry. Mr.Travers, who was standing just inside the back door, joined her.

  "Let me," he said, gallantly.

  The day was breaking as he finished his task. The clean, sweet air andthe exercise had given him an appetite to which the smell of cookingbacon and hot coffee that proceeded from the house had set a sharperedge. He took his coat from a bush and put it on. Mrs. Waters appearedat the door.

  "You had better come in and have some breakfast before you go," shesaid, brusquely; "there's no more sleep for me now."

  Mr. Travers obeyed with alacrity, and after a satisfying wash in thescullery came into the big kitchen with his face shining and took a seatat the table. The cloth was neatly laid, and Mrs. Waters, fresh andcool, with a smile upon her pleasant face, sat behind the tray. Shelooked at her guest curiously, Mr. Travers's spirits being somewhathigher than the state of his wardrobe appeared to justify.

  "Why don't you get some settled work?" she inquired, with gentleseverity, as he imparted snatches of his history between bites.

  "Easier said than done," said Mr. Travers, serenely. "But don't you runaway with the idea that I'm a beggar, because I'm not. I pay my way,such as it is. And, by-the-bye, I s'pose I haven't earned that twopounds Benn gave me?"

  His face lengthened, and he felt uneasily in his pocket.

  "I'll give them to him when I'm tired of the joke," said the widow,holding out her hand and watching him closely.

  Mr. Travers passed the coins over to her. "Soft hand you've got," hesaid, musingly. "I don't wonder Benn was desperate. I dare say I shouldhave done the same in his place."

  Mrs. Waters bit her lip and looked out at the window; Mr. Traversresumed his breakfast.

  "There's only one job that I'm really fit for, now that I'm too old forthe Army," he said, confidentially, as, breakfast finished, he stood atthe door ready to depart.

  "Playing at burglars?" hazarded Mrs. Waters.

  "Landlord of a little country public-house," said Mr. Travers, simply.

  Mrs. Waters fell back and regarded him with open-eyed amazement.

  "Good morning," she said, as soon as she could trust her voice.

  "Good-bye," said Mr. Travers, reluctantly. "I should like to hear howold Benn takes this joke, though."

  Mrs. Waters retreated into the house and stood regarding him. "If you'repassing this way again and like to look in--I'll tell you," she said,after a long pause. "Good-bye."

  "I'll look in in a week's time," said Mr. Travers.

  He took the proffered hand and shook it warmly. "It would be the bestjoke of all," he said, turning away.

  "What would?"

  The soldier confronted her again.

  "For old Benn to come round here one evening and find me landlord. Thinkit over."

  Mrs. Waters met his gaze soberly. "I'll think it over when you havegone," she said, softly. "Now go."

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