‘Never trust a gun in female hands,’ grumbled Hilary, dropping the nun’s habit and backing to join his friend. If only for the sake of her argument with her home, she wanted success. ‘Never fear, my love. “Who are you—Annabel Pellissier or her ghost?” Anna laughed. He stood back, smiling with an air of proprietorship, and looking about him at the business-like equipment of the room. She ran down alleyways and between buildings, faster than an Olympian, until she could hear his voice no more.
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