” They were in the elder Widgett girl’s bedroom; Hetty was laid up, she said, with a sprained ankle, and a miscellaneous party was gossiping away her tedium. She would buy a Greyhound ticket to New Orleans, make a kill or two, then travel into Texas and seduce some wandering man into taking her to Mexico, feast upon him once they got there. “Troubles, my friend,” she exclaimed lightly. Once they were on the move, Kimble seemed to find strength from somewhere. The thought allured him, and therein lay the danger. "Friday!" echoed Mrs. ‘It is nothing at all of the kind. But it was only when that damned scoundrel nearly spitted you in the chapel—’ He broke off and, to her intense satisfaction she saw he was not as much in command of himself as he would have her believe. There was a discreet knocking at the door, and Ramage’s face changed.
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