She held out her hand frankly. "Your mother is dead," interposed Wild, scowling. *** From the corner of her eye, Melusine saw Gerald move towards her and she turned to confront him, the confused turmoil in her mind causing her chest to tighten unbearably. Guns were impossible. Pure luck! If the boy had grown a moustache or a beard, a needle in the haystack would have been soft work.
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