. Jack's complexion was that of a gipsy; Darrell's as fresh and bright as a rose. And imprinting a kiss upon his mother's cold lips, he left the room. "There, he's as safe as Jack Sheppard in the Condemned Hould," laughed the man. Ennison stood still for a moment, swinging his latchkey upon his finger. She's too pretty and unusual. The man could put a bullet through her before she could hope to reach any one of them.
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