A white apron was tied round his waist, and into the apron was thrust a short thick truncheon, which looked very much like a rolling-pin. So often as she had herself manipulated a dagger, she could not mistake the shape that pressured across her chest, or the sharp point that dug below her bosom. ’ ‘Yes, but I need a word with Gerald,’ protested the captain, hanging back. ’ She shrugged fatalistically.
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