The man could put a bullet through her before she could hope to reach any one of them. He only laughed his defiance. But the mere recognition of his son’s signature was enough to stoke the fires of his long-held rage. Believe me, it will be better by far that you should consent to marry me. . ‘Don’t tell me. She turned to Lucilla, a plea in her face. "One of us has got to die," he panted.
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