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. Dear Diana and her fancy boys? One is dead, the
other was so mixed up that he mistook me for a bandit, and LAdy Dee herself is
so self-centered that she never understood what was going on; she simply knew
that some tiresome nonsense was interfering with her sacred whims. Turn around
and I'll scrub your back."
Gwen did so; I went on: "Let's improve it. I'll cover for you instead of
you covering for me."
"How?"
"My cane and your little Miyako use the same caliber ammo. So all shots
came from the Miyako-fired by me, not by you- and my cane is just a cane. And
you are my sweet, innocent bride who would never do anything so grossly
unladylike as shooting back at strangers. Does that suit you?"
Gwen was so long in answering that I began to think that I must have
offended her. "Richard, maybe neither of us shot at anybody."
"So? You interest me. Tell me how."
"I am almost as unanxious to admit that I carry a gun as you are to admit
that your cane has unexpected talents. Some places are awfully stuffy about
concealed weapons... but a gun in my purse-or somewhere on me-has saved my life
more than once and I intend to go on carrying one. Richard, the reasons you gave
for believing that no one knows about your cane apply also to my Miyako. You're
bigger than I am and I had the window seat. When we crouched down, I don't think
anyone could see me too well-your shoulders are not transparent
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