She was, as Capes had said, a hard young woman. “Can’t stop, thanks,” he answered. "The Dawn Pearl," he said. His reputation was slightly tainted by his marriage to her mother, an exotic blue-eyed raven-haired beauty, a Gypsy doll with a clandestine heritage. The great ordeal—that which she had most dreaded—had proved to be no ordeal at all. If I’d meant it, my girl, you’d be dead meat. She made noises between weeping and laughter as she went.
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