“Yeah, where the hell were you? My friends would have driven you home when I came home if I could have found you. " "A child!" thought Wood; it must be the fugitive Darrell. Another day of nonsuccess would mean many disagreeable things. She sensed that he was looking for her. She was alarmed at how little her husband Gianfrancesco packed for the trip, leaving behind his best scarlet and black lucco, which he wore for every business and political meeting. ‘This is altogether insupportable!’ She dug a hand into the recesses of the petticoat of her riding habit and a moment later Gerald found himself once again confronting the barrel of her overlarge and tarnished pistol.
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