You make a game with me, imbecile. Her blood spurted into his mouth and he drank. Giving him a wide berth, and keeping her pistol high, she made her way to the door and warily peered through it. Occasionally the canvas snapped as the wind veered slightly. Yet every now and then, during the progress of the meal, his attention apparently wandered, and leaning forward he glanced covertly at Anna with a curious mixture of expressions on his face. “Put her in the trunk.
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