Shy, grateful in her loneliness for this unexpected attention, she had listened. The chance had gone. He had heard this talk before. In each corner stood a stout square post reaching to the ceiling. His face, as he looked down where his hand sought for a weapon concealed in her petticoat, was so close that she could see only the line of his firm jaw, the drag of his powdered hair that drew it into the military pigtail, and the black ribbon that adorned it. She looked at him as he fingered a small switch on the side of the helicopter’s door. Thank goodness there’s plenty of opportunity! And we two can talk. Wood, "and take your son with you.
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