Her little white hand stole across the table. Her heavy pistol came up again, although she did not rise. "What is it?" "The night," she answered. ’ ‘Was it?’ Her lips twitched. A question next arose whether the prisoner could be executed under the existing warrant,—some inclining to one opinion, some to another. So perfect was the illusion, that he could almost fancy he heard the solemn voice of the ordinary warning him that his race was nearly run, and imploring him to prepare for eternity. "What's the particular dope?" "If I told you, you would laugh," answered Ah Cum, gravely. This—all this swamps them. . ’ A little sigh escaped her.
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