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Davis, Richard Harding, 1864-1916

"Somewhere in France"

No one else heard. These rooms are fixed to keep
out noise, and the piano was going. We broke in and found them on the
floor. The man was shot through the shoulder, the girl through the body.
His story is that after she fired, in trying to get the gun from her,
she shot herself--by accident. That's right, I guess. But the girl says
they came here to die together--what the newspaper calls a 'suicide
pact'--because they couldn't marry, and that he first shot her,
intending to kill her and then himself. That's silly. She framed it to
get him. She missed him with the gun, so now she's trying to get him
with this murder charge. I know her. If she'd been sober she wouldn't
have shot him; she'd have blackmailed him. She's _that_ sort. I know
her, and--"
With an exclamation the district attorney broke in upon her. "And the
man," he demanded eagerly; "was it _he_ killed Banf?"
In amazement the woman stared. "Certainly _not_!" she said.
"Then what _has_ this to do with Banf?"
"Nothing!" Her tone was annoyed, reproachful. "That was only to bring
you here.


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