There he stands. "Farewell!" blubbered the executioner's wife, pressing his hand to her lips. The old-fashioned dress, with its series of ruffles and printed flowers, ballooned treacherously, revealing her well-turned leg in silk stockings, as it snapped against her body as a mould. Giving him a wide berth, and keeping her pistol high, she made her way to the door and warily peered through it. 1.
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