“I am so very, very sorry. ‘Who kills who?’ ‘Rot in hell,’ he snarled, panting, and managed to push himself forward and leap off the dais, running for the safety of the far aisle by the wall. Folks don’t like ’em. She should have slapped him but she was in shock at her own thoughts of lust that arose. “I’ve got it. "I want to know what you've done with the rest of the notes—with the gold— and the papers you took away from my room!" rejoined Wild. He hung precariously on the ragged edge, but he hung there. She had found that proof.
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