I am yours for the making over. ’ ‘Uh-oh,’ came from her infuriating suitor and his eyes dropped to the weapon she was dragging from the holster under her petticoat. Her eyes were insane with rage, crusted with yellow and green, only beginning to heal from her long sojourn underground. Pure luck! If the boy had grown a moustache or a beard, a needle in the haystack would have been soft work. ” John tried to direct the topic away from him. " "Faithful fellow!" murmured Jack. Here it is. .
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