She would buy a Greyhound ticket to New Orleans, make a kill or two, then travel into Texas and seduce some wandering man into taking her to Mexico, feast upon him once they got there. Jackson, mean time, produced a pocket-book; and, after deliberately sharpening the point of a pencil, began to write on a blank leaf. I want you. Her mind turned and accused itself of having been cold and hard. Have we not received Lady Bicknacre just this morning? Not to mention the Comtesse de St Erme.
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