“If one half of the stories about Meysey Hill are true,” he answered, “I would not stretch out my little finger to save his life. Brendon made a quick movement forward. The boiling under her stern, however, told him nothing. ‘Here, miss,’ came faintly from somewhere close at hand. She bussed his cheek with her small lips as he stood by the open door, and exited alone towards the sleeping house. So she approached him with sandwiches.
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