“Hey,” he said, his eyes slowly adjusting to the soft blackness. ” “Annabel is a prophetess,” he declared. ” “I said I was all right. Listen, Jack. Mac would have some new yarns to spin and a fresh turn-over to his celebrated liver. We could have secured you when you left the Mint. She was faint from hunger, her head spinning into dizziness, the blood madness readying for battle.
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