When he had finished his stroke, and got from off her, she lay still without the least motion, breathless, as it should seem, with pleasure. He replac...d her again breadth-wise on the couch, unable to sit up, with her thighs open, between which I could observe a kind of white liquid, like froth, hanging about the outward lips of that recently opened wound, which now glowed with a deeper red. Presently she gets up, and throwing her arms round him, seemed far undelighted with the trial he had put. "An American truck, not another British shitwagon."They hurried toward the house. It was made of timber and mud, with a corrugated tin roof. A porch ran the width of the house. A big wooden cistern loomed on one side of the house, and in back was an outhouse.As they approached the porch, Gene pulled out a BXP submachine gun."Put that away," Louie said. "We didn't come here to shoot anyone. We just want to borrow their truck."He knocked on the front door, and it swung slowly open. Louie stepped. More

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