Hastily ascending these steps, Jack found the door, as he anticipated, locked. She donned her fuzzy slippers and traipsed downstairs, the welcoming smell of coffee beckoning her, the sound of Looney Toons music barely audible from the television set. ‘You wouldn’t know one end of a pistol from the other. I’ll need you to go back to the barracks and fetch more men up to town. When first brought under consideration, she was a miserable and forlorn object; squalid in attire, haggard in looks, and emaciated in frame. But then, because my papa had no money, you understand, he sent me to a convent.
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