"Well, Sir?" gasped Sir Rowland. "Red apples and snow!" she sent back at him, her face suddenly transfixed by some inner glory. Books! She knew now what had saved her—her mother's hand, reaching down from heaven, had set the giver's flaming eyes upon the covers of these books. ” She had not seen or heard from a single one of them since. On beholding the intruders, his fears changed to exultation, and he uttered a roar of satisfaction as he glared at them, which could only be likened to the cry of some savage denizen of the plains.
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