I often think of those delightful evenings in Paris. Afraid, no doubt, he thought grimly, that her other visitor would leave. ” She gave herself permission now to look at this squarely. “Yeah, I’ve heard that story. “Mean as an old mule, too. His face, as he looked down where his hand sought for a weapon concealed in her petticoat, was so close that she could see only the line of his firm jaw, the drag of his powdered hair that drew it into the military pigtail, and the black ribbon that adorned it.
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