“I thought you were practicing the turning of the other cheek, Arch,” Quincy said as they walked towards one of the formal dining rooms. “Threatening a man’s nose doesn’t seem in line with that philosophy.” “Yes, well,” Arch stepped stiffly, his face still set, “you tend to bring my folly out in spades. Besides, where I may not raise a hand for myself, it would be a cold afternoon in hell before I wouldn’t do it for you.”
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