’ Pierced to the heart by the poignancy of this utterance, Gerald could neither move nor speak. “Why are you so distant? Why all the mystery? What are you, a narc? Double-oh-seven or something?” She steeled herself, refusing to react. It jars with all my ideas. "Why, of hanging the fellow who acts as his jackal; one Blake, or Blueskin, I think he's called. In one of the cabins a man sat on the edge of his narrow bunk. CHAPTER V.
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