"Go on. " "Aye!" was McClintock's inaudible affirmative. He turned to Ruth and McClintock. He was braver than her husband, who paced and cowered in the corners of the once-sunny Palazzo. The vengeance of the assailants did not stop here. If nothing else had clinched that, the purse had. Her eyes were soft and blue, arched over by dark brows, and fringed by long silken lashes. ‘Have no fear,’ he uttered soothingly, reaching out to pat her free hand. Her eyes seemed to be looking backwards. I tried painting and couldn’t get on.
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