Annabel looked up and down the empty street, and then turned to her sister. The risk I run is nothing to yours. She kept him talking all the way to the doorstep of the Beck's home, a small 1970s brown split-level in the old part of town. She crawled over and caught at the skirts of this white woman who understood. Whenever I feel particularly gregarious, I take the launch and run over to Copeley's and play poker for a couple of days. ‘Never trust a gun in female hands,’ grumbled Hilary, dropping the nun’s habit and backing to join his friend. He carried a small bag.
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