"At the bottom of that big envelope I found this one. 8. The man could put a bullet through her before she could hope to reach any one of them. Occasionally the flames would bend, twist and writhe crazily as the punka-boy bestirred himself. His face was white. Her face reminded him of a delicate unglazed porcelain cup, filled with blond wine. If she could have held it in, perhaps the Virgin Mary would have sent her a miracle as reward for her strength. Little did I imagine at the time that it was my own father to whom he referred. Then for the first time she was conscious of an unaccountable and terrifying sensation. She saw his finger pull back on the hammer of the gun and shrieked a warning just as Jack launched himself forward and Gosse turned and fired.
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