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Page 199

| that he would not give up on herand he had meant it! |

| The hawker turned his eyes to Stanford as the horse and buggy wheeled to a stop close to Sasha. "And good-day to you, mate," he said, ambling to Stanford to offer a handshake. "You have come to see what I have to sell today? That is good. I fear this young lady has no means with which to purchase anything from me." |

| The hawker's dark eyes gleamed as Stanford stepped from the wagon and accepted his handshake. A diamond stickpin glittered in the folds of his ascotand in the eyes of the hawker. |

| "You are a man of means, I see," the hawker continued. He cast Sasha a look over his shoulder, then turned from Stanford and went back to his wagon. He chose the finest of linen handkerchiefs with the finest of lace gracing its edges and held it out to Stanford. "This would be a perfect gift for such a lady as this, wouldn't you say?" |

| Sasha was feeling trapped, almost desperate. She clutched the rifle hard, not liking being at the mercy of Stanford Sidwell, whose smug smile was making a sick feeling sweep through her. Oh, how could she have gotten herself involved with such a man? Would she ever be able to shake herself free of him? Was he going to cling like a leech? How could she rid herself of him short of threatening him with the barrel of a rifle? |

| Stanford took the handkerchief and eyed it admiringly. "Yes, I think I will take this handkerchiefand let me take a look at your hair ribbons," he said, walking to the wagon and sorting through the |

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