" "Beat out their brains, you mean," rejoined Blueskin with a tremendous imprecation; "no half measures now, Master. Wood. The slack cloth of her habit caught on a curlicue in the carved back of the pew in front, pulling her suddenly about. ’ A question leapt into Everett’s head and he recalled the letter to the Abbess. ’ ‘Uh-oh,’ came from her infuriating suitor and his eyes dropped to the weapon she was dragging from the holster under her petticoat. Both of them would be committing novel and unforgettable acts. Jack Kimble stiffened, looking at his interrogator with wary anger in his face.
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