His face, as he looked down where his hand sought for a weapon concealed in her petticoat, was so close that she could see only the line of his firm jaw, the drag of his powdered hair that drew it into the military pigtail, and the black ribbon that adorned it. Fresh ground, no chicory, and all the rest of it. All the same, I wish I had that fellow by the throat! Just the virile, unregenerate man in me wishes that. Maggot. ” “Served the beast right,” Ennison declared.
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