Wood sank, submissively, into a chair, while his daughter hastened to execute her arbitrary parent's commission. ‘What, and miss getting myself murdered?’ ‘She said she wouldn’t murder you. 272 < 34 > EPILOGUE She paced the Manhattan neighborhood, her backpack swinging, marveling at the austere buildings gleaming silver in their starkness. \"Oh. ‘Also that it was that you did not wish the French connection. . Perhaps, as you say, I do not really care—but I cannot do it. ” With a little crash the pistol fell from her shaking fingers.
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