Her gaze flickered down to his pistol. ’ She saw the weapon wrenched from Emile’s hand and he dropped to the bench of the pew and sat there, grasping helplessly at the welling blood on his arm. She opened it and drew out a letter, and folded within it were the notes she had sent off to Ramage that day. She could not go to him with a preachment against strong drink; she knew from experience that such a plan would be wasted effort. “No.
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