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from Brown Corpus
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She brought up her free hand to hit him, but this time he was quicker.
He side-stepped her blow and she fell, stumbling against the gelding.
She finally regained her balance and got up in the saddle.
Her hat had come off and fallen behind her shoulders, held by the string, and he could see her face more clearly than he had at any time before.
He had forgotten that she was so pretty.
But her prettiness was what he had noticed first, and all the other things had come afterward: cruelty, meanness, self-will.
He had known women like that, one woman in particular.
And one had been too many.
He watched the girl until she had gone into the trees, and waited until he couldn't hear the sound of her horse any longer, then went up to where the children were sleeping.

2.047 seconds.