"Good night!" "Blueskin," whispered Jack, in his natural tones, as the other passed him, "wait without. It shall be done as you direct. ‘How so?’ he asked, and she noted that he allowed his pistol to dangle a little from his fingers. She went about the gory business of disposing of the bodies, cutting them up with a large butcher knife and packing the light dry pieces of their bloodless remains in a double ply garbage bag, pieces that looked like overcooked, ruined meat. You’re such a strange girl.
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