A paralyzing horror was upon her. "Now, Sir, I'll trouble you for your coat. Any man might have endeavoured to protect himself in this fashion, a man with no one to care, with an unnameable terror at the thought (as if it mattered!) of being buried in alien earth, far from the familiar places he loved. The sing-song girl rose and meekly pattered out of the office into the night. "To shoot you would be to lose the reward. She had found a couple of articles about him over the years, blurbs about the opening of a theater that mentioned him.
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