Forgive me?” She pleaded. “Mean as an old mule, too. “I’m not going to kill you, John. And I’ve read, and thought, and guessed, and looked—until MY innocence—it’s smirched. \"This is my best friend, Mark. ‘You were his daughter. ’ She gestured at his hand, on which Roding’s makeshift bandage had been replaced by a more efficient one.
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