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For I knew well his steel-true loyalty, and that at sight of me in trouble he would have lost his slender chance of guarded liberty, and with it my last hope of sending word across the mountains; though, as for that, the hope was well-nigh dead at any rate. While Jennifer's guard and quota were mounting at the door the aide-de-camp returned, and that without the baronet.
How we came ashore alive through the gun-fire is one of those mysteries to which every battle adds its quota; but the poor beasts we rode were not so lucky. Jennifer's horse went down while we were yet some yards from the bank; and mine fell a moment later.
"We'll need a crib or something," Oliver said. A tear splashed on Jennifer's fruit bowl. "Yes. Yes, a crib. And a baby blanket." "A car seat," Oliver said solemnly. Jennifer wiped her face clean. "A car seat." She giggled. "Apple pie. Do you like apple pie?" "You're kidding," Oliver said. "Of course." "I make good apple pie," she said. "What about Rupert?" "Rupert is history."
She was one of the nineteen 'witches. He recommended where she should live, and gave her other personal advice... " Rama writes: Jennifer's mind was violated in a variety of horrible ways. She was kept awake for extended hours and forced repeatedly to view videos of Charles Manson... Jennifer was screamed at, ridiculed and degraded.
The scythe-like sweep of Jennifer's mighty claymore left the five-feathered chieftain the shorter by a head in the same pulse-beat that the Ferara scanted a second of the breath to yell with; though now I recall it, the gurgling death-cry of the poor wretch with the steel in his throat was more terrible to hear than any war-whoop. As for the old borderer, he was more deliberate.
"What are you going to do?" he said. "About what?" "Women." "Ah, marriage," Mark said. "It's not so bad," Oliver said. Better than the first time. Love the kid. But, Jennifer's working less and spending more. She wants to have another baby and be a full time momma. She wants to add on to the house." "You just got the house." "I know. What she wants to do makes sense, but it's a lot of money.
How we should have argued it out I do not know, for just then Jennifer's horse, scenting the troop mounts on the farther shore, cocked tail and ears, let out a squealing neigh, and fell to curveting and plunging in a racket that might have stood for the splashings of an advancing army. In a twinkling the outpost camp was astir and a bellowing hail came to us across the water.
But to atone, she, or some messenger of Richard Jennifer's, brought me my faithful Darius, and he it was who fetched me my food and drink and dressed my wound. From him I gleaned that the master of Appleby Hundred had returned from Queensborough, and that there were officers in red coats continually going back and forth, always with a hearty welcome from Gilbert Stair.
And yet in London I heard that this same Colonel Tarleton was with Lord Howe in Philadelphia and was made much of by the ladies." Jennifer's laugh was neither mirthful nor pleasant. "'Tis a weakness of the sex," he scoffed. "The women have a fondness for a man with a dash of the brute in him." I laughed also, but without bitterness. "You say it feelingly. Do you speak by the book?"
Nevertheless, after her first consternation in which, to avoid further speech with him she had sought refuge among the unsavoury seine nets in the fore-part of Jennifer's ferry-boat Tom Verity's probable opinion of her undignified action troubled her far less than the cause of the said action itself. For exactly what, after all, had so upset her, begetting imperative necessity of escape?
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