“To your room!” Michelle cowered, her face flushed with anger. We can’t afford to turn our women, our Madonnas, our Saint Catherines, our Mona Lisas, our goddesses and angels and fairy princesses, into a sort of man. He would teach her all he knew of life so that if the Hand should ever reach his shoulder, she would be able to defend herself. Here again the clothes were minus the labels. ” “I had to,” she repeated. ’ She released the pistol which lay in her lap and gestured expressively with her hands.
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