. ’ He nodded in the direction of her pistol. There were sidetables and a writing table, similarly buried in bric-a-brac, and the chair by the French doors could hardly be seen for blankets. I told him that I was not ‘Alcide. "Drink your peg; don't bother about me. ” The three men, who had arrived within a minute or two of one another, received her little speech in dead silence. ” She gave him a Marboro which he lit with a Zippo with an American flag on it.
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