She hung about his chair, followed him to the door, touched his sleeve timidly, all the while striving to pronounce the words which refused to rise to her tongue. Sorry to be so nosy. Jane was a smoldering auburn-haired Irish beauty who seldom spoke to anyone. This time she feinted as his point came up to deflect her own, and disengaging, passed under and cut at his cheek. Here would be a woman perfectly unrecognizable, strong, ruthless but just. “She is likely somewhere on the road or perhaps in town, finding victims.
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