Loving was self-forgetfulness, pure delighting in another human being. ’ ‘Uh-oh,’ came from her infuriating suitor and his eyes dropped to the weapon she was dragging from the holster under her petticoat. Murder, I say, has been done! Another murder will be committed if you don't prevent it. She went on her way now no longer dreaming and appreciative, but disturbed and unwillingly observant behind her mask of serene contentment. You are wedged in amongst a crowd, perhaps in the promenade, you lean over the back, you are almost out of sight.
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