She looked at him as he fingered a small switch on the side of the helicopter’s door. The procession had just got into line of march, when a dreadful groan, mixed with yells, hootings, and execrations, was heard. Before her was a great Gothic portal. You understand me, Charcoal. ’ She drew a heavy breath. ” “Sooner or later. ” “I don’t see why I shouldn’t.
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