“Don't let them hang me, Jack Rangsley,” I sobbed. “You I4. ROMANCE.
Don't let 'em hang me, Jack.” He rode his horse up to me, and caught me by the
collar. “Hold your tongue,” he said roughly. He began to make a set speech,
anathematizing runners. He moved to tie our feet, and hang us by our finger-nails
They would hang any undesirable man, like these runners, whom it would make
too great a stir to murder outright, over the edge of a low bank, and swear to him
that he was clawing the brink of Shakespeare's Cliff or any other hundred-foot ...
“And it's a hanging job, too? But it's no affair of mine.” He stopped and reflected
for an instant. I could feel Carlos' eyes upon us, looking out of the thick darkness.
A slight rustling came from the corner that hid Castro. “She passes down channel
... but I accepted their relationship without in the least understanding how Carlos,
with his fine grain, his high soul—I gave him credit for a high soul—could put up
with the squalid ferocity with which I credited Castro. It seemed to hang in the air
What people are saying - Write a review
LibraryThing ReviewUser Review - ToddSherman - LibraryThing
“And on this ghostly sigh, on this breath, with the feeble click of beads in the nun’s hands, a silence fell upon the room, vast as the stillness of a world of unknown faiths, loves, beliefs, of ... Read full review