Both advanced towards it, when, by the light of the lantern, Wood beheld, in the countenance of the stranger, the well-remembered and stern features of Rowland. The folds of a thick muslin neckcloth in some degree protected him, but the gash was desperate. Blue Ruin will do the job nicely. She felt as if she had struck them unawares. She’d prefer that I read classic literature, of course, but she only reads paperback romance novels, so she can’t exactly complain. ‘I dropped the lantern,’ Jack’s muffled voice told her.
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