Everything. He would condemn her to the vengeance of the mob all for refusing to marry him. He knew she was out there, he could feel it. Only her ungloved fingers, and the arms in their long tight sleeves as she held the heavy gun aloft, bore any sign of stiffness. “What was that?” she asked sharply. She opened her suitcase—new and smelling strongly of leather—and took out of it a book, dogeared and precariously held together, bound in faded blue cloth and bearing the inscription: The Universal Handbook. He whispered in her ear.
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