At first she thought he was endeavouring to rid himself of the fleas, but after a time she came to understand that the muck had healing qualities and soothed the burning scratches made by his claws. " "Devil!" muttered Jack, again grasping his pistol. As she talked, the drift and significance of what she was saying shaped itself slowly to Ann Veronica’s apprehension. Let’s face it, she hates Missy’s guts. "No, Sir, it's quite possible—more than possible. He hanged your first husband. He rose deliberately to his feet and confronted them.
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