Wood glanced at the hardy offender, and not liking the expression of his countenance, thought it advisable to postpone the execution of his threats to a more favourable opportunity. But this was long ago. “Accident! She shot me,” he muttered. “I am off to-night,” he said. He cocked an eyebrow. Did you break my mother's heart as you tried to break mine? I am no longer accountable to you for anything. He was perhaps forty-five years of age. Shari proceeded to paint, brush, dust, slather, and blot Lucy’s face with makeup.
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