A grimy, battered object, which had no place in the fashionable quarter of town. The arm about her was steel hard, and she felt the weapon that was placed at her heart, which thumped uncomfortably in her chest. “To be my eternal love. It could only mean one thing—that her foster daughter was both a whore and a murderer! When Sheila confronted her about it, it was five in the morning. But I never betray an old customer. Then to Dan Ware's, in Hanging Sword Court.
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