“Then why, if you
don’t mind me asking a personal question, were you just running as if pursued
by an angry mob out for blood?”
“Nice imagery.”
“Thank you.” Gib
handed over an icy bottle. “I wanted to spin something about an enraged,
shotgun-wielding father and a recently defiled virgin, but I didn’t want to
cast any aspersions.”
“Well, you British are famous for your restraint.”
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