老虎机稳赢方法

“I鈥檒l say, G鈥檇ay to you, Mr. Ryan!鈥� Catherine said as she quickly closed the door in his face. 鈥淥h, the arrogance,鈥� she growled under her breath, leaning her back up against the closed door. 鈥淗e thinks he鈥檚 so irresistible with his rugged good looks and sexy accent.鈥�

鈥淚鈥檓 standing right here, and I can hear you!鈥� came Jake鈥檚 muffled words from the other side of the door. 鈥淥h, c鈥檓on love. I鈥檓 sorry. I didn鈥檛 realize I was offending you.”
― Diane Merrill Wigginton, A Compromising Position

“proud,”
― Natalie Babbitt, Tuck Everlasting

“It ain鈥檛 braggin鈥� if y鈥檙eally done it.”
― John Berendt, Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil

“I walked past Malison, up Lower Main to Main and across the road. I didn鈥檛 need to look to know he was behind me. I entered Royal Wood, went a short way along a path and waited. It was cool and dim beneath the trees. When Malison entered the Wood, I continued eastward.聽
I wanted to place his body in hallowed ground. He was born a Mearan. The least I could do was send him to Loric. The distance between us closed until he was on my heels. He chose to come, I told myself, as if that lessened the crime I planned. He chose what I have to offer.
We were almost to the cemetery before he asked where we were going. I answered with another question. 鈥淒o you like living in the High Lord鈥檚 kitchens?鈥�
He, of course, replied, 鈥淣o.鈥�
鈥淲ell, we鈥檙e going to a better place.鈥�
When we reached the edge of the Wood, I pushed aside a branch to see the Temple of Loric and Calec鈥檚 cottage. No smoke was coming from the chimney, and I assumed the old man was yet abed. His pony was grazing in the field of graves. The sun hid behind a bank of clouds.
Malison moved beside me. 鈥淚t鈥檚 a graveyard.鈥�
鈥淎re you afraid of ghosts?鈥� I asked.
鈥淢y father鈥檚 a ghost,鈥� he whispered.
I asked if he wanted to learn how to throw a knife. He said, 鈥淵es,鈥� as I knew he would.聽 He untucked his shirt, withdrew the knife he had stolen and gave it to me. It was a thick-bladed, single-edged knife, better suited for dicing celery than slitting a young throat. But it would serve my purpose. That I also knew. I鈥檇 spent all night projecting how the morning would unfold and, except for indulging in the tea, it had happened as I had imagined.聽
Damut kissed her son farewell. Malison followed me of his own free will. Without fear, he placed the instrument of his death into my hand. We were at the appointed place, at the appointed time. The stolen knife was warm from the heat of his body. I had only to use it. Yet I hesitated, and again prayed for Sythene to show me a different path.
鈥淎ren鈥檛 you going to show me?鈥� Malison prompted, as if to echo my prayer.”
― K. Ritz, Sheever's Journal, Diary of a Poison Master