” “She does. ’ ‘Uh-oh,’ came from her infuriating suitor and his eyes dropped to the weapon she was dragging from the holster under her petticoat. "Perhaps he means well. He carried a cane and a silk hat with a mourning-band in one gray-gloved hand; his frock-coat and trousers were admirable; his handsome face, his black mustache, his prominent brow conveyed an eager solicitude. An uncomfortable silence followed. She found her foster father and Mike still awake, playing high stakes UNO at the dimly lit kitchen table. I am not going to be a chorus girl, or even a super.
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