" "And why not, old saltwater?" inquired Ben, turning a quid in his mouth. She had not felt comfortable in his presence from the first, and with Leonardo’s precepts in mind, was loath to trust him. “Wow, congratulations, Martin. There isn’t a husband breathing, Annabel, who wouldn’t have blessed that pistol in your hands, and prayed God that the bullet might go straight. Coolly and gingerly, she kissed it as it stood at its hard angle from his body. This was irregular.
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