The door crashed back against the wall inside and both men hurtled into the room, weapons at the ready—and stopped dead. I hated the stuff. Her eyes filled as she thought of him, the image of his laughing countenance coming into her mind, to be swiftly followed by a vision of the blood running from his cut hand. "These writer chaps are queer birds. "If you mean to accompany us, you may need it. She clasped her hands over her mouth in a silent scream. His expression altered. We find out no man will treat a woman fairly as man to man—no man.
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