If I’d meant it, my girl, you’d be dead meat. Wood, I desire you'll put on your best things, and join us as soon as possible. Gosse sagged under the impact, knocking over the card table, and falling to sit, half stunned, the discharged pistol flying from his slackened grasp. She had called the police on them anonymously. ‘Oh, Jacques, I cannot forgive myself!’ ‘Never you fret, miss,’ he uttered at once in a faint voice.
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