“You must be the Miss Pellissier of whom David has told me so much,” he said, shyly. “P. . He stood back and held her shoulders. Be frank, I beg you, Miss Pellissier. . A white apron was tied round his waist, and into the apron was thrust a short thick truncheon, which looked very much like a rolling-pin. The folds of a thick muslin neckcloth in some degree protected him, but the gash was desperate.
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