His reputation was slightly tainted by his marriage to her mother, an exotic blue-eyed raven-haired beauty, a Gypsy doll with a clandestine heritage. “—and your aunt—” For a time he searched for the mot juste. Then he opened them again suddenly, to find Courtlaw still by his side. “I’m not going to kill you, John. Deep silences came between them. “Do you want some of mine?” “Yes. To even presume a lustful thought about her was to ask for one’s own death. “I shall send for a policeman,” Anna said, “directly my maid answers the bell— unless you choose to go before. The blast once more swept over the agitated river: whirled off the sheets of foam, scattered them far and wide in rain-drops, and left the raging torrent blacker than before. You shall not take me alive. It was there in the breast pocket, stiff and legal looking.
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