‘You put that thing away now, missie. ‘You have something more to tell me?’ Jack grinned. No hair to fall awry, no powder to displace, no ruffles to crush; men are lucky. Her white shirt was mired with a central bloodstain, his pants caked with mud. She held out both her hands. We'll have him on his way before many days. ’ ‘Don’t call me by name,’ she snapped. "Only the dog," replied the rough tones of a man.
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