82 She was putting a manuscript away, gingerly locking its heavy tooled cover, but it was a huge, awkward tome. ‘Do you think I would do to him as he made a threat to do to me? No. Beside me on Anna’s table was a pistol. Hadn’t they settled that already? “I want you as a friend,” he persisted, almost as if he disputed something. Hell, my mom hates everyone, don’t take this personally, but she doesn’t like you very much and she isn’t shy about letting me know. " "What's the meaning of all this?" demanded Sir Cecil. Still, something had marked the face, something had left an indelible touch. \"Yep.
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