Automatically, she glanced at the slight red graze left on her neck that marked the point where Gerald’s sword had nicked her. " "Never!" replied the woollen-draper; "and if that treacherous rascal, by your side, doesn't make himself scarce quickly, I'll send a bullet through his brain. ’ ‘Uh-oh,’ came from her infuriating suitor and his eyes dropped to the weapon she was dragging from the holster under her petticoat. He was shifting to reach his own weapon, which had fallen in between the pews at the back.
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