Only her ungloved fingers, and the arms in their long tight sleeves as she held the heavy gun aloft, bore any sign of stiffness. ‘Your mystery lady, I mean. Hell, my mom hates everyone, don’t take this personally, but she doesn’t like you very much and she isn’t shy about letting me know. "Halloa, widow!" shouted a rough voice from below, "where the devil are you?" Mrs. Unless it was a jewel or locket of some kind. She began to miss him when he was gone during the day and cherish the quiet times he spent only with her.
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