‘But lay him down. After the usual laconic greetings, he drew him on one side. The features were indistinct, but was that not a halo of white about it? And the dark shadow below, was that a cloak, or the habit of a nun? Skirting the dancing, from which he had taken a breather—not from lack of energy, but to escape the inanities of the young ladies he had partnered—Gerald made his way to a side door in the saloon and opened it. “Is Coke okay?” He asked as he pulled into the gas station. “There, there, now. Wood, at the top of her voice. Monsieur Charvill, he has not the means to choose different.
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