Taking a firm grasp of his pistol, Gerald eased back, let go the handle of the door, and at the same instant, swung his booted foot. He did not write this with lead but with his heart's blood. ’ Then she came closer and put her hand on his chest so that it rested on the braid that decorated his scarlet coat. Gerald tried it. She was the High Priestess. I’ve made no one happy.
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