‘Never trust a gun in female hands,’ grumbled Hilary, dropping the nun’s habit and backing to join his friend. "That's all right. With great difficulty, Wood forced a path through the ruins. We had no idea. "Whose grave is this?" he inquired of a man who was standing near it. He returned her impressive greeting almost mechanically. The air might be cool, but half an hour without head-gear was an invitation to sunstroke.
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