‘Never trust a gun in female hands,’ grumbled Hilary, dropping the nun’s habit and backing to join his friend. ” She assented gently. To walk beside him, dressed akin to him, rucksacked and companionable, was bliss in itself; each step she took was like stepping once more across the threshold of heaven. Probably some woman on the loose; they were as thick as flies over here—dizzy blondes. Wood was dressed with more than ordinary care, and in more than ordinary finery. Maggot. His literary instincts began to stir.
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