"Farewell!" blubbered the executioner's wife, pressing his hand to her lips. ‘What happened, ma’am?’ enquired Gerald gently. It hadn’t even been called Kentucky back then when the Shawnee still hunted deer over mossy hills and the smoke from their fires could still inspire terror. “Well?” “You and all the rest of them are always lamenting that I do not marry. Only a book detective could dope this out.
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